A Chance for Change
by Magical Flying Books
Summary: Darkness is falling and it has pulled Freya Ericsson out of her life and into the realm of the Norse Gods. During their hunt for what the Dark Elves call The Amethyst, Malekith decides to take Freya along with them for reasons only he knows of. Will she be able to handle the secrets she has found out about herself and her family?
1. Prologue

Prologue

Loki lies, one leg bent, on the day bed that sits in the middle of his cell in the dungeons of Asgard. A book is propped up against his bent leg and he stares at the page, rereading the same sentence for the tenth time, unable to focus on the text. One hand rests behind his head, only leaving its place to flip the pages. Little prickles begin to run their way down from his elbow so he sits up, puts his book down and wiggles his fingers. Something is going to happen today; he _knows_ it. He just doesn't know what or when. So, instead of pacing, or taking part in some other form of useless fidgeting, he had decided to read.

Loki looks around at the others with whom he shares the dungeon and continues to massage the pins and needles out of his arm. Some of them pace; some speak quietly to one another through the golden bars confining them to their cells; others call out to the guards that walk up and down the corridor. But the God of Mischief sits quietly, keeping the fact that he knows something is about to occur a secret.

One guard who had been pacing between the cells stops in front of Loki's and watches him.

"Well?" Loki asks lowly, not looking up from his tingling wrist.

"I do not need anything," the guard says.

Loki meets the guard's eyes. "Then why have you planted yourself in front of me if you do not _need anything?_"

The guard shrugs then continues to pace down the aisle.

There is a crash as one of the big metal doors at the end of the hall slams open. Another guard walks in and makes his way to the one who had just spoken. The two speak quietly and Loki watches out of the corner of his eye. As he catches some of the conversation, he smirks. Heimdall has sensed a disturbance; someone is coming, but they are invisible.

A prisoner across from him chuckles and Loki looks up to see a Dark Elf staring at him, a grin pulling up the corners of his lips.

"What are you laughing at, elf?" asks one of the guards. In response, the elf laughs again. The two guards mutter a few more words to each other, then both hurry down the corridor and out the door.

Loki stands and walks slowly to the edge of his cage, hands clasped behind his back. "I believe," he starts, "that we have something in common."

"I have nothing in common with you, banished Prince," the Elf sneers.

"For your sake, I shall ignore that remark." Loki purses his lips. "Now tell me, what is going on above?"

"You already know."

Loki nods and smiles. "Yes, of _course_ I do, but I would much appreciate a clarification."

"He has found it," the Dark Elf says.

"It what?"

"_It_. The Amethyst."

"Amethyst? As in the gem?" Loki asks. "What would the Dark Elves need a gem for?" The Elf opens his mouth to say something but is cut off as feet pound across the floor above them. Loki looks up. "I suppose we shall see then," he mutters.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I sit in a small, warm corner of Starbucks, a fire roaring in the fireplace next to me. Erasing the eye I've been drawing and redrawing for the last ten minutes, I glance over at my laptop lying closed on a table beside my seat. It stares back at me, reminding me that I should be typing an English paper. Next to my laptop is a cup of lukewarm hot chocolate, untouched as I've attempted to make this eye perfect. It's probably cold by now, neglected like my English paper. (But to be perfectly honest, I'd rather fail miserably at drawing my art project than write that stupid paper anyway.)

Sighing, I erase most of the eye again and sit back. I look around as I adjust my earbuds. Outside it's rainy, windy and grossly September. I pick up my cup and take a swig of hot chocolate, and catch myself just as I'm about to spit it out all over my paper. Hot chocolate should never be lukewarm, let alone cold. I get up and throw away the disgusting liquid and force myself to swallow the stuff in my mouth. Yuck.

More people trickle in as it gets close to the end of the work day; the door bell dings as they walk in. When I realize the new crowd are people I go to school with, I try to blend in to my corner as much as possible. I turn my music up louder and slump down in my seat, making sure to face away from them. Finally deciding that I'm hidden enough, I pick up my pencil and continue attempting to draw an eye. Really, how hard can it be? It's just a slightly pointed oval with circles in it.

After a few more minutes of me drawing, and of people laughing and talking, there's a crash. I ignore it, assuming someone just dropped a mug of coffee or something. But then someone screams, and another person screams, and all of a sudden Starbucks is full of the sounds of shrieks and scraping chairs. I pull my earbuds out and look up to see the shattered windows scattered around the floor. The frame of the glass door hangs off one hinge and the glass is no longer there. Some people are backed against the wall and others are running towards the door, trying to escape from whatever is happening. When they get to the empty door frame they freeze, scream bloody murder and run back inside.

With a rising sense of panic, I throw my sketchbook and phone in my messenger bag and pull the strap over my head. I remember the pepper spray and pocket knife I keep in the outside pocket, and I fumble for the spray as I duck behind my chair. I know I need to hide from whoever, or whatever, broke the windows and door. Just as I crouch down, two tall men appear in the doorway. The quick glance I get of them is enough to make out some distinguishing features: both have pale white skin and _pointed ears_. The first one has long silver hair and weird silver eyes. The other, who stands farther back, is wearing an expressionless mask that makes it look like he doesn't have eyes. They look... _evil_.

Unable to stop myself, I peer around the edge of the chair to make out more of these weird people. They look like two super tall basketball players going to a Cosplay convention, and I don't know what Cosplay it is, but they nailed it. The one without the mask wears a spiked helmet and silver chest plate and leg guards and just looks generally terrifying. Then he speaks.

"Where is the one known as Freya?" he asks. His voice is deep, with a strange accent, and when he talks it sounds like more than one person speaking at once.

No one says anything, and I don't move. Something about them tells me I shouldn't... It could be the fact that these complete strangers know my name, or the fact that they look freaking creepy.

"ANSWER ME, MORTALS!" the guy bellows, causing the crowd of people to take a step back.

A girl lets out a strangled scream as the...elf?...picks her up. He throws her against the wall and she smashes into it with a sickening crack. Through the crack between the chair and the wall, I see her slide to the floor; she doesn't get up.

I let out a small gasp. The elf guy turns and starts walking towards my hiding place.

_Shit shit shit! _I crouch down as far as I can and press myself against the chair, squeezing my eyes shut.

_If you can't see him, he can't see you,_ a small part of me whimpers. A large, cold hand reaches down and wraps itself around the front of my leather jacket... I guess I've scientifically disproved _that _theory_._

The guy pulls me out from my hiding place and holds me up to his eye level. He's so tall that my feet dangle a good two feet above the ground. I try to conceal a whimper as he shakes me and speaks.

"What is your name, girl?"

"Abby."

"Don't lie to me," he spits.

"No! I'm not! I'm Abigail. Abigail Joan Adams! Please don't-"

"I can tell when I'm being lied to, Freya Ericsson."

Well, _shit_.

He throws me against the ground. I scramble as far away from him as I can get before his crony grabs my bicep and hoists me to my feet. The first elf guy walks over to me and grabs my other arm, and his friend lets go. As he begins to pull me toward the door, he squeezes my arm and blinding pain flourishes under his finger tips. Then there's a pop and crack which causes lights to dance before my eyes. _He just broke my arm with his bare hand. _If this guy's an elf, _goodbye, Legolas_.

"That is for lying to me," he whispers.

"Let me go!" I cry and pinch his arm. He squeezes tighter. More pain shoots up through my arm into my head, and for a brief moment, I'm afraid I will pass out.

I hold up my pepper spray, but just as I'm about to shoot him with it, he knocks the bottle from my hand.

"Nice try."

"Screw you," I hiss through gritted teeth.

He laughs. "I take no offense from your pathetic mortal insults."

Elf guy pulls me out of Starbucks and down the sidewalk. People stare at us as we pass then scurry off; no one tries to help me. I guess if I saw a giant elf walking down the street I'd probably run too.

"At least tell me where we're going," I gasp. My arm really hurts.

"Svartalheim," he says.

"Where?"

"My home realm."

"Your home realm...?"

I am pulled farther down the street; then we turn a corner and my breath catches. There, sitting with it's bottom stuck in the pavement, is a giant metal space ship. It's black and spiky and a ramp protrudes from the front of it, leading to the ground. How is there no FBI or police or something out here? How the heck could officials just let some giant space ship land in the middle of New York without doing anything? Surely after what happened a year ago, security would be closely watching for any signs of extraterrestrial occurrences.

Two other elves walk down the ramp and come to a stop at the end, carrying black metal things that look vaguely like guns. They all wear the same expressionless masks and the same silver and black armor.

The elf holding me—he must be the leader—pushes me forward and says, "Walk." So I walk towards the space ship, cradling my broken arm gingerly with the other. More elves make their way down the ramp and I begin to notice that they are lining up on either side of us. My only path of escape is back. Or it would be if it weren't for the other elf's gun pressed against my spine.

I glance to my left and see a gap between two elves that looks big enough for me to fit through. It's likely to be my only chance, and I take it. Quickly, I turn and kick the elf behind me as hard as I can in _that_ general area, dodge the gun hurtling towards my head, and break into a dead sprint. I'm about five feet away from the line of elves when they begin to react. Now I'm three feet away. If I get past them, there's a building that I can run into and hide... get people's attention, call 911. A second later I am past most of the elves and I chance a look behind me. As I begin to I turn my head back around, I run into hard metal and fall to the ground. Looking up, I see leader elf standing over me, chuckling.

I am stuck.

"That was a very bad idea, child," he says. He reaches down and grabs my broken arm, squeezing tighter than he has the last two times. A chorus of muffled pops follow as he pulls me up and back towards the ship. More pain courses through my arm and I scream as loud as I can.

I am absolutely and completely stuck and my arm is numb, but he _keeps squeezing!_

"Who the hell are you," I moan, trying to make my voice stop shaking.

He pushes me up the ramp and through the door without saying anything. The ramp retracts and the door closes, and we are left in an eerie purplish glow that emanates from some unseen light source.

The elf guy who has probably succeeded in permanently screwing up my arm turns to say something to three others. They hurry off and he turns back towards me slowly, smiling. After pushing me into a chair, he begins to strap me to it, pulling a black cord across my waist and tying my arms behind my back. Then he ties my legs to the legs of the chair and steps back to inspect his handiwork.

"Why am I here?" I ask, trying not to scream as the pain from my arm returns.

"Because you are special. At least, I _think_ you are."

"You took me because you think I'm special?"

He shrugs, then nods. "Yes."

"But if you don't know, why'd you have to take me?"

"Because if I found that you _were_ the one I was looking for and I had left you here on Midgard, then I would have to waste my time and return to this dreadful realm."

"I can assure you, I am not special—" I flinch as pain shoots into my shoulder "—in the slightest. I can't do anything for you, so please just let me go."

"I am terribly sorry, girl, but as it seems we are already flying. I can do nothing to help," he says. "I must say though, you have been a delight to torture." He grins.

"You're sick! Who are you!?" He doesn't answer. Instead he walks over to a table, reaches into a box and pulls out a syringe filled with a dark blue, almost black, liquid. He walks back to me and grabs my face, squeezing my cheeks with one white hand as he tips my head back, exposing my neck. There's a prick and I can feel the needle slide into me. Elf guy presses the plunger and the stuff seeps into my bloodstream.

Finally, terror erupts in my chest, replacing my adrenaline fueled cockiness. I can feel the dark stuff spreading through my veins. I'm going to die. I'm going to die right now and my mom and friends won't know what happened. No one will ever know what happened to me.

"_Who are you?_" I screech. "_Why am I here? Let me go! I just want to go home! Please just let me go! WHO ARE YOU?_"

I have tunnel vision. My eyes are about to close and I feel my head slump against my chest. The elf grabs my face again and forces me to look at him.

I can barely see, but I can tell he is enjoying this.

"I am Malekith," he says, a smile spreading across his face, "and I am your worst nightmare."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Thor walks through the door of the throne room, where his father sits on the large golden chair. He kneels briefly in front of Odin, placing his arm and closed fist over his chest, before straightening and speaking.

"Father, the Bifrost is malfunctioning. Heimdall does not know what is happening, but we believe Dark Elves are trying to get through."

The Allfather nods, stroking his white beard absentmindedly.

"Get as many forces as you can down to the Rainbow Bridge," he says after a moment.

"Yes, Father." Thor bows and starts to hurry towards the door.

"And Thor, make sure our _prisoner_ is securely behind bars," Odin finishes.

"Yes, I will. Thank you, Father."

Thor rushes out and starts down the shining metal hallway. He hurries down flights of stairs, through more hallways and finally comes to the stairs that lead to the dungeon. He heads down and nods to the two men who stand guard at the large doors. They each pull one open and Thor enters. He walks down the long corridor that is lined on either side with cells and stops when he comes to one in particular.

"And to what do I owe the _pleasure_?" Loki asks, placing his book on the day bed and getting up. He clasps his hands behind his back and walks to the front of the cell to look down on Thor. Two more Lokis materialize and follow him.

"I'll have none of your tricks, Brother," Thor says.

"Ah, well. You were never one for jokes." The two other Lokis disappear and are replaced by two Thors. "Now, tell me, what is happening up in Asgard that makes the all-mighty Thor look so...distraught?"

"Loki, _enough_. I am here to tell you that if you put one single hair out of place, Father will not take kindly to you."

Loki smiles slightly, beginning to pace. The two Thors disappear as he does so.

"Father has never taken kindly to anything I've ever done, so that would be nothing new." Loki watches his brother as Thor pinches the bridge of his nose. "My, my; something must be happening. You haven't looked this upset since the time I invaded New York."

The God of Thunder glares at him. "Loki, I must leave you now. A battle is waging and I must be there to fight."

Thor turns to go.

"What if I helped?" Loki calls. He has stopped pacing now, and he watches as Thor freezes just as he is about to leave the dungeon. Thor turns and walks back to his brother's cell, and the man in green begins to pace again.

"What if I helped Asgard? What would you and Father think of me then? If I helped would I still be this...this monster everyone assumes I am? Would I be free of this place," Loki motions around him with a flick of his hand, "these _criminals_?"

"I do not believe that is an option, Brother," Thor murmurs.

The small smile that had been forming on Loki's lips falls away. Again, he stops pacing, but this time he does not face Thor when he speaks.

"It seems I have forgotten that I am one of them, these criminals..."

"Loki-"

"It seems," Loki continues, getting louder, "that I _am_ the monster."

"Brother-"

"Do not call me brother, Thor," Loki hisses.

Thor closes his eyes briefly before speaking again.

"Loki, you are my bro-"

"_NO_!" Loki bellows, finally turning around. "I am not your brother; I never was! You never cared for me! I see that now. I knew from the start that Odin didn't; he never did. But I foolishly held out hope that you still did. I now know that I was wrong. _You are no brother of mine!_"

The last thing Thor sees before Loki turns away from him is a flickering of blue and the flash of blood red eyes.

"Loki, I will see if there is anything I can do about your imprisonment, but I can make no promises," he says quietly.

Loki's eyebrow raises slightly in surprise but he doesn't turn to face his adoptive brother. Instead, he stands facing the wall until he is sure Thor has left. When he does turn, the Dark Elf who had spoken to him earlier that day is staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"How dare you look at me!"

The elf smirks, but turns away.

...

I am unconscious. Or at least I was. Whatever liquid those assholes put in me hurt enough to awaken me from the fog that the hundreds of other substances had created. Just splendid. I think it's been an hour or so, but I can't really tell. All I know is pain, pain, and a hell of a lot more pain. Luckily I'm still in enough of a fog that all the agony is just a dull aching throb. This is even worse than the time I stepped on a piece of glass, then fell and broke my arm in the course of five minutes.

Another needle goes in somewhere and it causes me to jolt fully awake. The pain rushes in, sending spots dancing across my vision. When my vision has cleared some, I look down to inspect my hurting body and instantly wish I didn't. The first thing I see is that my pink shirt-my _favorite_ pink shirt-is totally covered in a mixture of needle juice and red stuff. And I'm pretty sure that red stuff is my red stuff. My legs are stiff from not moving and my leggings are caked in dried blood. I groan when I see my broken arm. It, too, is coated in blood, but under all that I can make out nasty shades of blue, purple, yellow and green. Bile rises in my throat. I'm gonna throw up, and I do.

It lands on my legs and on the feet of an elf guy who is standing in the splash zone. He glares at me and I shrug slightly. Sorry. You stick me with needles, I puke on you. I think that's fair enough.

_My bag!_

I look around frantically before realizing that the strap is still securely over my chest. This makes me feel better, but only slightly.

"How was your nap?" a voice asks, and I look up to find Malekith glowering over me.

_Freaking terrific, thanks for asking._ I don't say anything.

"Oh there, there, child. It will all be over soon enough if -"

His voice fades away as I feel yet another needle poke into me. This one goes into my back, between my shoulder blades and it's filled with something that hurts, that _burns_. A sound escapes me that I never thought was possible to make. My veins are on fire. Everything is burning from the inside out. If this is what if feels like to be microwaved, I will never microwave anything ever again.

"Well, girl?"

"What?" I ask. Has he been talking the whole time? It's kinda hard to concentrate with lava running through your veins. My vision swims and I can barely make out what he says next.

"- you help - we will torture - kill you."

"Then kill me," I say as I fall back into unconsciousness.

...

Thor sprints down the hallway toward the doors that lead to the Rainbow Bridge. He stops briefly when he passes a window to look out over the battle waging in and outside of the Bifrost. Dark Elves stream out of a portal that has been forced open and they crash into the Asgardians, pushing them farther and farther up the Bridge, towards the palace.

As Thor watches, an elf with pale skin and silver white hair walks through the madness. He turns his face up and looks directly at Thor, smiling.

"Malekith," Thor murmurs and turns on his heel, beginning to head back to the thrown room. If Malekith is here, mere metal weapons are not going to suffice. He turns a corner and runs directly into Sif.

"Lady Sif, I apologize," he says, dipping his head.

"It is alright, but shouldn't you be out fighting?"

"Yes, I was just going to speak to my father about something first."

"What is it? Perhaps I can accompany you and help win the Allfather over," says Sif.

Thor lets out a short laugh. "Perhaps, but...I do not believe you will take very kindly to the idea that I have."

Sif narrows her eyes before saying, "What is this idea, Thor?"

"I believe," Thor starts slowly, "that it would be in our best interest to allow...Loki to aid us in this war."

Sif's face turns from confused to angry in seconds.

"Are you _mad?_" she cries. "He has done nothing but betray us and your plan is to let him out?"

"Yes, it is."

"I am sorry, Thor, but that is not something I wish to help you with." She brushes past him. "I am headed to battle."

Thor watches until she disappears before continuing to the throne room. He bursts through the doors, not stopping to show respect to his king.

"Father, I have something to ask of you."

"What is it?" Odin asks. "Are the Dark Elves forcing their way across the Bridge?"

"We are doing our best to confine them to the Bifrost, but they are pushing closer. That is related to the matter which I wish to discuss. I believe that we could use Loki's magic."

The Allfather sits in stunned silence as what his son said sinks in. "No."

"Allfather, please. I -"

"No, Thor. I will not allow that criminal out at a time like this."

"Father, _Makelith_ is out there," Thor says, pointing towards the door, "and I think that if we had magic on our side -"

The golden doors bang open and Thor and Odin turn. Sif walks towards them briskly and kneels once she is in front of Odin, crossing her arm over her chest.

"Allfather, Thor has told me of his plan, and as much as I dislike Loki, I believe his magic would aid us," she says as she straightens. "We are greatly outnumbered and I think that if we had Loki's magic on our side we would be able to defeat the Dark Elves."

Odin regards the two warriors in silence for a few moments before sighing. "So be it. But be warned: both of you are responsible for Loki and his actions. Anything he does will be on your shoulders."

"I understand, Father. Thank you for listening," Thor says. He and Sif turn and walk out.

"This is a foolish thing that I should not have agreed to," she murmurs. "We should not be freeing him."

"If he so much as _thinks_ about doing something reckless, I will put him back in his cell and see that he is never let out again; I promise you that."

"I am surprised your father agreed so quickly," Sif says, looking at Thor as they walk.

"As am I," the god agrees. "I do not know how I feel about the ease in which he obliged."

They walk in silence until they come to the stairs that lead to the dungeons. For the second time that day Thor approaches Loki's cell.

"Now what?" Loki asks, annoyed. He glances at Sif. "I see Sif has decided to join us this time. Hello, Sif."

"Loki," she says, nodding to him.

"You're so cold. Is that all I get after not seeing you for so long?"

"Loki!" Thor says loudly, cutting him off. "You are being released under our watch. You are to aid us against the Dark Elf attack, and if you harm Asgard or any of it's people, I will lock you up. If you mess up this time, you will never be released again."

Loki raises an eyebrow. "I'm impressed, Thor. How did you manage to persuade the Allfather? Brainwashing? Hypnotism?"

Thor walks over to a guard and they begin to speak softly.

"I am to thank for that," Sif says. "I, like Thor, believe that your magic will be able to help defend Asgard."

"How can I ever thank you, Sif?" Loki asks, smiling sweetly down at her. He leans towards her but keeps a safe distance away from the electrical force field.

"By proving me wrong," she whispers.

"Proving you wrong how?"

Before she has time to answer, Thor returns with a guard. The guard touches the wall just below the force field and it shimmers then disappears.

Loki hops down, then turns to look at the wall.

"If I had known it was that easy, I would have broken out ages ago," he mutters before turning to Lady Sif and his brother.

"Well, Thor? Show me to the madness."

Thor grabs Loki's bicep and begins to drag him towards the dungeon doors.

"Do you not trust me?"

"No."

"Naturally..." Loki mutters, then a moment later he disappears.

"_LOKI!_" Thor bellows.

The God of Mischief smiles as he walks towards the Rainbow Bridge. He comes to a stop at it's edge and turns to wait. After a few minutes, Thor comes running down the stairs leading from the palace to the courtyard. When he spots his brother, he yells something unintelligible up to Sif who has just begun to make her way down the steps. A moment later they are both standing in front of Loki with mirrored looks of rage.

"Finally! I was beginning to get worried you had lost your way," Loki smirks.

"I will deal with this later," Thor says. "Now, let us enter the battle."

Loki spots elves running towards them. "May I?"

Thor nods and Loki disappears only to reappear directly in front of the elves in full armor, helmet and all, holding two swords which he sends straight through their chests.

The elves let out simultaneous screeches then fall to the ground, dead. Loki glances back at Sif and Thor, grinning. Another elf takes this moment to run at the god, but Loki ducks and the elf's sword swings harmlessly above him. Loki straightens, then decapitates the elf, letting out a triumphant cry. Thor and Sif exchange a quick glance, then run into the battle.

The war wages on, but finally the Asgardians have the elves totally confined in the Bifrost.

"Loki! Your left!" Thor yells as he swings his hammer at an elf. It connects with the elf's jaw and the elf falls to the ground.

Loki glances to his left. An elf runs at him, getting closer and closer. Just as he is about to lunge, the real Loki comes up behind him and stabs him.

Loki dispels the illusion with a quick wave of his hand, then turns back to his brother. "Where is Malekith?" he calls.

"I do not kn-" Thor stops when he sees the elf leader staring at them. He is holding someone. A girl, Thor realizes. A girl who is covered in dried blood. The few patches of her skin that aren't caked with red and brown are a light, sickly grey, with black veins visible like tattoos; bruises cover her face.

"Loki!" Thor calls. He throws Mjölnir and the hammer flies through the air, smashing into five elves as it goes.

"What is it?" Loki yells back. "As you can see, I'm somewhat busy." He stabs one elf and slices another.

"Malekith has a mortal girl!"

"What do you want _me_ to do about it?" Loki elbows another elf in the stomach before stabbing him.

"I will get him to put her down. You take her to Eir to be healed."

"No! You brought me here to fight. I will not leave on behalf of a Midgardian mortal," Loki spits.

"You were brought here to fight, but you are free because of me, so I advise you to do as I say." Thor turns away from his brother and starts walking toward Malekith, holding his hand out to summon Mjölnir to him.

Loki stands still for a moment, then slowly turns to follow behind his brother's red cape. As they get closer to Malekith, Loki's body shimmers; then he disappears.

"Malekith!" Thor bellows. "Join the fight!"

The Dark Elf smiles at him. "I think I will pass on the offer."

"Do not be a coward! Put down the girl and fight!" Thor cries.

Malekith smiles wider. "You will soon come to regret this." He drops the girl and pulls out his sword. Malekith lunges but stumbles as Thor backs away. Thor swings his hammer, catapulting the Dark Elf halfway across the Bifrost. Before following, Thor turns, searching the air for Loki. When he catches sight of a slight glimmer in the air, he nods and pursues Malekith.

Loki runs to the girl, who lies crumpled against the cold floor. Her left arm is bruised and cut and her right arm is too bloody to assess the real damage. She looks young... too young to be wound up in any business of Malekith's. Loki picks her up gingerly then sprints out of the Bifrost and down the Rainbow Bridge. He runs until he is half way across the Rainbow Bridge, then he turns and watches the battle for just a moment before transporting to the infirmary.

"Put her on the table, _gently_," Eir says, standing up and walking to the sink to fill a bowl with water. She places it on a chair next to the table and hands Loki a cloth.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he asks, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Clean her face and arm," Eir says, cutting away the girl's shirt to expose any hidden wounds.

Loki looks at the goddess, appalled. "It seems you have forgotten—"

"Loki, I do not care if you were a prince. Clean the wound now or I'll send you straight back to your father." The Goddess of Healing glares at him.

Loki rolls his eyes then gets to work rubbing the dried blood from the girl's skin.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I moan and shift slightly, regretting it as little prickles of pain shoot up from my various wounds. I must be dead. I have to be dead. There's no way I survived that torture.

_ If you were dead, nothing would hurt, stupid._

I crack my eyes open and look around. Everything is slightly blurred, and, to be completely honest, I'm surprised I'm not lying in a bed made of clouds surrounded by rainbows and blue.

I try to open my left eye, but the skin around it is too swollen to open it more than a crack. I blink multiple times, clearing the vision in my other eye. Once everything stops looking fuzzy my jaw drops.

I am lying in a large hospital bed in a really big room. The walls are covered in warm brown wallpaper with thin golden curls spiraling across it. To my right is a metal night stand with bandages and some bottles filled with weird colored liquids. Farther off, pushed against the wall parallel to my bed, is a sofa that looks about two times bigger than normal. Next to that is a table. A vase of bright blue and orange lilies sits on it. I'm dreaming. I'm in one of those dreams where you shrink down and everything is too big and too bright. I need to be. If I'm not dead, I am definitely dreaming.

Taking a moment before goggling at anything else, I inspect my body. My arm that had been crushed is now bandaged with this weird brown fabric that must be a cast. A few sickly colored bruises stick out from under it, but I can tell it isn't broken anymore. My right arm looks like it had succumbed to a brutal form of acupuncture. Speckles the size of pin heads, and some even bigger, dot it everywhere; on my wrist, my bicep, even my elbow. My _elbow_. How do you even get a needle in an elbow?

After feeling my face, and wincing a total of thirteen and a half times, I conclude that nothing major is broken. My eye is just as puffy and half closed as it was when I woke up and I have a giant bruise on the left side of my face that stretches from my cheek bone to my jaw. I vaguely remember being punched and slapped a couple of times. I don't want to (let alone have the stomach for it) look at the rest of my body, so instead I turn my attention back to my surroundings.

The wall to my left is completely covered by a window and the landscape outside is more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. There is a large expanse of gold towers and buildings that subside to less shiny walls and roofs. To one side of what must be a village is a forest of huge pine trees, and farther past the village is a deep blue ocean that just sort of spills over into space.

"Holy crap," I breath. It looks like a scene from a fairytale, except slightly more shiny and golden.

"I see you have awoken," a voice says from behind me.

I look at the person who spoke. It's a man and he is _big_. He's wearing silver and black armor and is holding something that vaguely resembles a hammer. Behind him flows a long red cape. His hair is shoulder length and honey blond and neatly trimmed scruff covers his chin. His overall appearance is overwhelming, but his eyes are kind and have crinkles next to them, marks made from continuous smiling and laughter.

"I...um...yes. Yeah, I guess I have," I sputter. "So, uh, where exactly am I?"

"Asgard, my lady," the man says.

Holy shit.

"Wait, wait. You said Asgard. As in the Norse _mythology_ Asgard?"

Now this_ definitely_ needs to be a dream.

He laughs. "Yes, _that_ Asgard. But I can assure you, my lady, it is certainly no myth."

"Holy shit. Holy shit, so wait. Okay...holy sh-crap. _Sorry!_ Okay, _okay_, uh." I take a breath, trying to sort out my thoughts that are scattered around my brain like puzzle pieces. "If-if I'm on Asgard, then...who are you?"

"I am Thor, Son of Odin Allfather and Frigga Allmother of Asgard." He bows slightly.

"Thor? Like lightning and thunder Thor?"

"I suppose." He laughs again. I must sound really stupid.

"And that's your hammer?" I ask, pointing at it.

"Yes. This is Mjölnir."

I repeat the name silently then stare at him. I open my mouth to say something, but shut it abruptly, not knowing what to say.

"Are you alright?" he asks after a moment of watching me sputter for words. "Are you in pain? I can summon Eir. She is the healer here."

"No, I'm fine, just a little...flustered. And sore. And kinda scared, too," I say, squeezing the blanket. _Don't freak out, don't freak out!_

"I apologize if I came off as threatening. I meant no harm," Thor says.

"Oh, no, it's not you. I've just been through a lot and I'm kind of freaking out right now. So, um..." I swallow then continue. "I'm just getting very overwhelmed."

He gives me a worried look then says, "I shall summon Eir. She will be able to help." He smiles down at me before turning and leaving. The door swings shut behind his red cape and I sit staring at the wood. What happened while I was out? Where did Malekith go? And how the _hell_ did I wind up in Asgard?

Glancing out the window again, I can make out a sparkling bridge with lights shifting and shimmering through it, looking like moving rainbows. At the end of it is a large, golden sphere with a round opening where the bridge connects with it. A large steeple-like structure protrudes from the top.

The door swings open and Thor walks back in followed by a woman. She is beautiful, with long brown hair that trails down her back and shining gold-brown eyes. She is wearing a tan tunic that covers dark pants tucked into worn leather boots. Her sleeves are rolled up and her hands are stained, from medicine, I am guessing.

"How are you fairing, child?" she asks, smiling at me.

"Okay, I guess? I kinda hurt, but it's nothing like before. But I'm just feeling really overwhelmed."

"It is good you are no longer in pain; it means the potion worked." She holds up a small vial full of purple liquid. "I have prepared another. When you wish, drink this and it will heal you further while you sleep."

"Thank you," I say.

She sets it on the table beside me and says, "As for you being overwhelmed, there is not much I can do." Eir sits on the edge of my bed, taking one of my hands and giving it a small squeeze. "But I can assure you, Malekith can not get you here. You are safe and we will keep you safe for the duration of your stay here. My suggestion is to get some sleep. You will feel much better when you wake." She smiles at me, getting up, then places her hand momentarily on Thor's shoulder before leaving.

"Was that Eir?" I ask.

Thor nods. "Yes. She is Asgard's healer and can create powerful elixirs that can cure even the most seriously wounded men and women."

"So I see," I mutter, eyeing the brightly colored liquid.

"I should leave to let you rest and heal fully," the God of Thunder says.

I swallow my nerves and give him a tight smile. "I'm fine for now. Plus, I want to know what happened while I was unconscious and half dead." Memories of the torture come flooding back and I wince, pushing them far, far away.

He frowns a little as he starts to explain. "I do not know what happened while you were being held by the Dark Elves, so I can only tell you the events that transpired during the attack." I nod and he continues. "We don't know precisely what happened, but somehow the Dark Elves breached our barriers and entered through the Bifrost. Lady Sif, one of our best warriors, my brother and I fought Malekith and I sent my brother to take you to Eir."

"Did you...kill Malekith?" I ask, becoming slightly hopeful.

"No. As soon as he realized we had rescued you, he left. I fear he shall return for you in the near future."

I don't say anything. He's not dead. He needs me for something, so obviously he's going to come back.

"Where's your brother? Is he still here?" I ask, breaking the silence. "Can I thank him?"

At this Thor becomes awkward. "I do not think that wise..."

"Why not?"

"My brother is...unstable."

"Unstable how?"

"Well..."

It's almost comical seeing such a big, confidant guy fidget.

"Well...?" I ask, shrugging a little.

"He can become very angry and violent with no explanation. I do not wish to use the word insa-"

"I was saved by an insane guy?" I cry.

"No! He was under direct orders from the Allfather that if he harmed you-"

"So you and this Sif person told an insane guy to save me?"

"Lady Freya-"

"And he listened?"

At this Thor furrows his brow. "Er...yes... I do not see-"

"If he is a psychopath then wouldn't he have, I don't know, actually done something to me? Or at least, not have listened to you?"

"I suppose I see your point, but I believe he acted under the knowledge that if he disobeyed he would no longer be allowed out of his cell."

"His cell?"

"Yes, he has caused much...conflict between people," he says. Then, when he sees the look on my face, follows it up with, "_But_, I do believe that my brother could change for the better if he was given the chance, as does my mother. The Allfather does not."

Maybe I should just take that purple potion now. All this information is making my brain hurt, not to mention the throbbing that has started in my bruised arm.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. As I let it out, I look at Thor. "I have a _lot_ of questions."

"I would be very surprised if you did not," he said. "I will answer everything you ask to the best of my ability."

"Okay, thank you. So, Dark Elves brought me to Asgard, which is where the Norse gods, who I thought were myth but actually aren't, live?" Thor nods. "And I was saved by your psychopathic brother who could become non-psychopathic, maybe? And you're Thor, son of Odin?"

"Yes, all of that is correct."

"Your mom is Frigga?"

"Yes."

"Odin is, like, the main god?"

"Yes."

"What's a Bifrost?"

"The Bifrost is a portal capable of transporting anyone to any of the Nine Realms. It is the golden sphere which you can see from where we are located." He points out the window and I follow his gaze to the golden ball attached to the colorful bridge. "The Rainbow Bridge attaches it to Asgard. Heimdall is it's protector."

I nod. Then open my mouth to ask another question, but before I can, the door opens and Eir walks back in.

She walks directly to Thor, whispers, "I need to speak with you," then Thor gets up and they both walk a little ways away.

I sit, watching them, trying not to eavesdrop but trying to all at the same time. They're talking so quietly that the only thing I hear is, "Does she know?"

"About what?" Thor whispers.

"Does she know about Loki? Does she—who—what he did?"

"I do not believe so, no."

Eir nods and glances at me. When she sees I had been listening, she whispers one more thing to Thor, then walks over to me.

"Remember to take the medicine."

"I will," I say, glancing at the purple liquid.

She turns, exchanges a look with Thor and leaves us alone again.

"What does she mean?" I ask once the door has closed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What does she mean 'do I know about Loki?' He's one of your brothers, right?" I try to pull as many Norse mythology facts from my mythology course last semester. "He's the God of Mischief and Lies right?"

"He is my only brother and yes...you are correct," Thor says. He looks uncomfortable.

Only brother? We must have gotten a lot of stuff wrong, then.

"But what was she talking about?"

"I do not think—"

"You said you would answer everything I ask to the best of your ability," I say.

He rubs his forehead, sighing. "I did say that," then quieter, "and I am beginning to regret it."

"So what did your brother do?" I lean forward, waiting.

He's silent.

"Wellllll?"

"Do you recall the, ah, the Avengers?"

"Yes..." I wait for a moment, then something clicks. "Oh my god! Are you an Avenger?"

He nods.

"Whoa, I—well, I guess that's kinda obvious now that I think about it. I did something fly by my dorm window about a year ago, before all of that weird alien stuff really started." I stare at my hand, thinking for a second. "So that means you know Captain America? And the Hulk?"

"Yes, but—"

"Are they nice?"

"Yes, but—"

"Wow—"

"Lady Freya, that is not what I am trying to tell you." He sits down on the edge of the bed. "You apparently remember the invasion of the New City of York."

I laugh at this, but stop when I remember what we're actually talking about. "Yes, I do."

"You know about the aliens. However, do you know who brought them there?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I saw some stuff on newscasts. The footage was really bad though. There were some rumors going around after the fact, but no certainties. The government kept it all very down low. The rumors were really farfetched though. I heard some people talking about how it was a god who came down to rule Earth or something. They were throwing around names, Hades, Osiris, Lo—"

I stop.

Thor is watching me carefully. He sits up straighter. "Loki, yes."

"Yeah," I breath. Loki tried to take over my planet. "It was him? He's the one who practically flattening New York to the ground!?"

He merely nods.

"Your brother, Loki, the God of freaking Lies and Mischief tried to take over my planet! Holy shit, Thor! Why didn't you tell me this when you mentioned psychopathic?"

"It did not seem appropriate to inform you earlier. You were quite overwhelmed so I did not think it wise to add to it."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Eventually...probably."

I lean forward and put my head in my hands. "This is unreal," I whisper.

"I...suppose now that you know what he did, you do not wish to see him."

"No, I still want to. But along with thanking him, I also want to slap him. Mostly slap him. Where is he?" I say.

"Loki is in his cell, as I said before," Thor says. He walks to the end of my bed and sits down.

"In his cell."

"Yes."

"You were serious?"

"My lady, are you sure you are feeling well? This is the third time I have said this."

"Yes, I'm fine. Doesn't locking him up make him angrier? I mean, I'm not trying to defend the guy who tried to take over my planet, but doesn't keeping him locked up and able to brood twenty-four-seven not help the situation of 'teaching him a lesson'? You even said yourself that he was let out under orders not to harm anyone, or whatever."

Thor is silent for a few moments before he opens his mouth and carefully says, "I understand what you are saying but my father does not believe it is wise for him to be running free. For that reason, we put him back in his cell even though he listened to me and did not harm anyone. I believe that the Allfather's patience has been entirely used up by my brother."

I look out the window and study Asgard, thinking. "Can I go see him, though?"

"Perhaps; but for now I suggest you rest."

The purple liquid is still sitting on the nightstand, glistening in the daylight. I pick it up and uncork it.

"Sweet dreams," I mutter, and down the drink in one gulp. Warmth spreads through me as soon as I swallow the potion. It makes me feel heavy and my eyelids start to droop. Thor stands and pulls the blanket over my exposed arms so that it rests just below my neck.

"I shall check on you once you are fully rested," he murmurs and I mutter something that comes out as a slur in response.

Then I'm enveloped in blissful sleep.

...

Some time later I wake up and instantly realize that, besides a few scars on my arms from the needle injections, I am entirely healed. I sit up, yawn and stretch, sighing as I crack my back. I open my eyes and notice how my once puffy eye now opens fully. Expecting to see the brown wallpaper from before, I'm shocked when I realize that I am in a much nicer, much bigger room.

The bed I am sitting in is slightly longer and wider than a normal king-size and is covered in a dark turquoise bed spread that I've just now realized is the only thing covering my almost completely naked body. I pull the blankets up over my exposed bra and look around frantically for a place to change. The wall across from me has a window about four feet wide that reaches all the way to the ceiling high above; to my right, the _entire wall_ is a window.

I see a big wardrobe across the room but I don't feel like running past a giant window in my undies. To the left of the smaller window is a set of gold hooks from which hang my bag and jacket, but none of my other clothes from Earth. The door next to the hooks is partly open; inside I can see a mirror hanging on the gold wall just above a sink. A fireplace made of dark marble covers part of another wall and two chairs sit in front of it, bathed in an orange glow. On the same wall are two giant golden doors that must lead out of my room.

There's a knock on the door and I jump.

"Lady Freya?" someone calls softly. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah! Er, one minute!" I look around for a place to change and spot a door. I get up and run over to it (thank god these _gods_ have rugs).

When I turn the handle and pull it open, a wave of relief washes over me. Inside is a small room full of clothes. Dresses of every color and style hang from a rod and shirts, tunics and pieces of light armor hang on another. Under the shirts and tunics are shelves that hold an assortment of neatly folded trouser. The wall across from me is made entirely of shelves and on each one are about five pairs of shoes. I am in _heaven!_

I glance over the dresses then turn to the other wall where the shirts hang. Picking out a red tunic, I pull it on, then pull on a pair of light beige pants and walk out.

I go to the double doors and grab the handle. When I pull it open, I see a girl standing in front of me. She is about half an inch shorter than I am and looks to be about thirteen or fourteen (but not knowing how time works in Asgard, I can't say for sure).

"Um...hi," I say, smiling.

She smiles back, but her light blue eyes still look nervous. "I am Lifa, and I've been assigned to help you with whatever you may need, whether it be washing clothes or retrieving more towels for your bath."

"Uh, thank you. You...already know my name."

Lifa laughs lightly. "Yes, Lady Freya. Thor has told me everything that has happened to you and I am very sorry to hear about all that you went through."

"Yeah...it was...really, really awful. But Eir healed me, so I'm fine now."

I stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Lifa does the same, twirling the end of her blond braid around her finger. A minute passes without us saying anything and I'm beginning to wonder if I should invite her inside or-

"Pardon me!" the girl cries suddenly. "I forgot the reason for which I came. Here. Your Midgardian garments." She holds out a pile of clothes and I see my pink shirt, camisole, and leggings.

"Eir had them washed and mended for you. She thought that you would most likely want them back."

I take my clothes and thank her.

"The Queen also wishes for you to attend dinner. I can help you find a dress to wear, if you would like." Lifa smiles at me.

"That'd be great. Come on in." I stand back and she enters my room, a look of wonder slowly covering her face.

"You have a beautiful room!"

"Thanks." I put my clothes on the sofa. "So, when do I have to go to dinner? And what do I have to do? I've never really eaten with royalty before."

"In about an hour's time," Lifa says, stroking the curtains that hang from the canopy over my bed. "I will explain everything once you are dressed and ready. Where's your closet?"

I point to the door and she rushes over, eager to see more. I don't blame her, I'm eager to look in my closet even though I already know what's in it. Lifa opens the door and lets out a small gasp as she walks in. I laugh.

"Are you not _coming?_" she calls, her voice loud and excited.

"Yes, I am!" I call and I follow her in.

"You are going to be dining with the Allfather and Frigga, the Queen," the girl says. She turns to me. "Along with Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three." Lifa pulls a red ruffly dress off the rod and holds it up in front of her. Peeking her head around, she looks at me with a scrunched up nose; we exchange looks and I shake my head.

"Find something more...flowy," I say, walking to an elegant looking gold one. No.

"So what do I need to know for this thing? Any tips? Pointers?"

"Be polite, do not interrupt, sit up straight. I do not really know what else to tell you for I have never eaten in the presence of the Allfather."

I nod and we both continue to look for a few minutes more, me saying no to almost all the ones she holds up.

Lifa taps my shoulder. "I think I may have found one." I can hear the smile in her voice.

When I turn and see the dress she is holding, I gasp. The gown is a dark blue, almost navy, and the gauzy straps have little sequins and jewels that shimmer and shine in the light that doesn't really have a source.

"Well?" Lifa asks, smiling.

"Yes. That is perfect! Definitely yes!" I cry.

She holds the dress out to me and I take it, running my fingers over the soft fabric.

"I also found these." She holds up a pair of silver high heels and I nod, unable to take my eyes off the dress. "I'll leave so you can change, Lady Freya. If you wish, I could also do your hair. I've always wanted to do someone's hair, but I have three brothers, so I haven't gotten the chance."

"If it isn't too much trouble, I would really appreciate it," I say.

"It is no problem at all. I would be happy to do it." Lifa smiles and hurries out, closing the door behind her. Once she's gone, I pull off the tunic and hang it back up. I shed the pants and throw them in a messy pile on top of some others. Taking the gown off the hanger, I unbutton the back and step into it. It floats down around me, coming to a stop just above the floor. I step into the shoes and strap them on to my feet, feeling way too tall.

"Okay! I'm ready! But I might need help walking."

Lifa opens the door and her eyes widen. "That dress looks so beautiful on you! Here, I'll button it." She quickly buttons up the back then helps me waddle into my room. "I'll do your hair, and then Thor should be here to show you to the dining hall."

"Thank you," I say and sit down on the edge of my bed. Lifa crawls on and sits behind me, her hands working quickly on my hair. Two minutes later, she hops off the bed to inspect her handiwork.

"Is it good?" I'm a little nervouse; she said she's never done this before.

"It is much more than 'good;' go look," Lifa says, pointing at the mirror.

I get up and walk over to the mirror. I gasp, seeing my reflection and tilt my head to look at my hair. It's pulled into a loose braid and some dark waves frame my face.

"M'lady, I do not mean to be rude, but what is that marking on your shoulder?" Lifa asks.

I crane my neck to look at my right shoulder where my small, star-shaped tattoo is. "It's a tattoo," I say, touching it absentmindedly.

"It is a very pretty marking."

I glance at her and she smiles. "Thank you. And thank you for doing my hair. This is pretty good for having three brothers and all."

"Thank you, Lady Freya."

Someone knocks on the door and I walk over as I say, "You can just call me Freya."

Thor stands there smiling and now, instead of his armor and cape, he wears a grey cloak and some of his hair is pulled back. He looks even more handsome than he did before, if that's possible.

"My lady, you seemed to have cleaned up a bit," he says, looking at my dress.

"Yeah. One looks considerably better without a swollen eye and a giant bruise on her face," I say, trying to cover up my red cheeks and nervous laughing.

He smiles then holds up his arm. Chivalry is not dead! I take it and then turn back to Lifa.

"Thanks for all your help."

"It was nothing. I hope you have a wonderful time at dinner," she says. "I will see you tomorrow. If you do not mind, I can get your chambers ready for your return, lay out some night things."

"That'd be great," I say. The doors close and Thor and I begin to walk down the hallway toward the delicious smell of food.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Is everything made of gold here?" I ask, only partly joking. We've walked down about five hallways and three stair cases and almost everything I've seen so far is gold.

Thor laughs. "Not everything, but much of the palace and walkways are considerably more...shiny than those on Midgard."

"So you're saying I could take home a window sill and pay for the rest of my college education?"

"I suppose, though I do not understand why you must pay for your education."

"I, my family, and a good percentage of the population of the United States would agree with you on that one," I mutter. At this Thor gives me a very confused look. I smirk at him, but trip over the floor and almost fall.

"You do not seem very accustomed to high heels," he comments, chuckling.

"That is because I'm not." I loosen my grip on his arm slightly and stand up straighter, trying to regain my dignity. This movement causes me to wobble yet again and I wrap my arms back around Thor's giant bicep.

We walk in silence for a while. I look around, staring at everything and everyone we pass. Every single person I have seen here looks too perfect and too beautiful to be real. As we pass by some windows I catch a glance of Asgard at night. Stars twinkle in the sky that doesn't seem to have a beginning or end. Galaxies that look like I could reach out and touch them glisten and shine. A big moon hangs in the sky, incredibly close, and a planet with orange and white stripes floats to the left of it, even closer.

Thor leads me to the end of the hallway where a door sits closed in front of us and he swings it open and gestures for me to go ahead of him. When I walk in, I try to contain my excitement and astonishment. I should really be used to the general bigness of these rooms and the fact that, again, every single thing is gold except for some of the furniture.

Thor touches the small of my back and guides me past a short staircase that leads into a lowered section of the room where people mill around, talking and eating. We walk across a small bridge and then he leads me to a table where people already sit. When we are almost to the table, I trip again; as I'm about to hit the ground, two arms wrap around my waist and pull me up. I turn my head, expecting the arms to be Thor's.

"That was a very close call," says a man with short blond hair, putting his lips close to my ear.

"Th-thank you very much," I stutter. This guy is gorgeous!

"Fandral, you flirt, let her go," says the woman sitting closest to us. She has long brown hair and is wearing a silver dress that has the texture of chain mail.

"But Sif, how can she possibly get to her seat without my assistance?" Fandral asks, looping his arm through mine.

"I can-I can probably get there fine," I squeak.

"Are you sure, m'lady? I would hate to see you fall," he says, smiling at me. I give him a tight nod and smile slightly. "Very well." He slips his arm away from mine and catches my hand, kisses the back of it then walks back over to his seat.

"Lady Freya," Thor says, "I would like you to meet Lady Sif, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and my parents, Frigga and Odin Allfather."

Sif smiles; Volstagg waves a half-eaten leg of some kind of animal at me; and Hogun, who is sitting next to Sif, doesn't look at me or say anything.

Thor leads me over to an empty chair next to Hogun. The warrior waits for me to be seated before plopping down next to me. Thor is seated next to his father, who is at the head of the table. Next to him is Frigga, who smiles warmly at me, and in between the Queen and Fandral is another empty chair, this one is gold and has green, velvet covered cushions. It looks unused, as if no one has sat there in a long, long time. I have a feeling I know whose it is.

"We wish to thank you for joining us tonight," the Queen says, snapping me back to reality.

"I should be the one thanking you. If it weren't for Thor and Loki," Odin tenses when I say the second name, "I'd probably be dead, or close to it, at least."

"I am truly sorry for all that you have gone through. We will do everything in our power to keep Malekith from taking you again," she says. Odin doesn't say anything and just looks at me with his one eye.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it..." I glance up at Odin. He's still staring at me. "I appreciate it a lot."

Still staring.

I stare back.

A minute later he blinks and looks away.

"How dare Malekith touch such a beautiful maiden!" Fandral says, disgust in his voice. I blush and he winks at me, making the red in my cheeks reach my ears.

I try to ignore the handsome warrior as he watches me with this look (seductive is the only word for it) on his face. I turn to Sif and say, "Thor told me that you helped save me and I just want to say thanks to you as well."

"It was nothing at all. Most of the work was done by...Loki," her eyes flit to Odin when she says Loki's name. "He was the one who saved you, though he did it quite reluctantly."

I glance over at Odin. He and Frigga are talking with hushed voices but I catch some of what they say. 'Loki.' 'Bifrost.' '_Her_.'

Just as I'm about to ask why everyone seems so fidgety (with the exception of Fandral who, whenever I look at him, wiggles his eyebrows), the meal arrives. And it is a _feast!_ Set in front of me is a plate that contains three different types of meat, five different vegetables, two of which I've never seen, and two kinds of rolls.

"I did not know what you prefer so I asked for a variety," Thor murmurs as he begins to eat.

"Thank you." The rest of the group start eating so I tentatively pick up my fork and spear a weird vegetable that looks like a cross between a potato and a carrot. I take a small bite and my eyes widen as the flavor flowers in my mouth. It is absolutely delicious and before I know it, the rest of them are gone.

I glance up, feeling eyes on me, and see Frigga smiling. I smile back and go back to eating. One of the rolls is a light brown with seeds scattered across the top. It tastes like a normal piece of bread, but there is a faint hint of a cinnamon after taste. I finish it and then try the other, which is so lightly colored it's almost white. It tastes like its filled with sugar and butter and vanilla and melts almost as soon as it touches my tongue. Suddenly, I become very self conscious of the fact that I am literally shoving food in my mouth. When I glance up, however, I am comforted. Seeing Volstagg piling more and more food on his plate makes me feel less like a pig.

"He's not used to having a plate," Fandral says.

"What do you mean?" I ask

"Volstagg is naturally inclined to just eat off the serving tray," Sif says, laughing.

Volstagg lets out a loud laugh. "This is true."

"He is also inclined to _never stop eating_," Thor says with a smile.

"Oh come now!" Volstagg cries defensively.

"When?" Fandral asks, mocking disbelief.

Sif laughs. "I think the only time he does not have food in his mouth is when he's sleeping."

At this they all erupt into laughter, including Hogun.

I don't find it that funny, but I laugh along anyway.

They all continue to eat, laughing and talking about stuff I have never heard of. Then Thor looks down at my plate.

"Did you not enjoy the bird?" he asks, taking a long drink of some form of alcohol.

"Well...um...not really."

"You can have any kind of meat you like. We must have enough to keep Volstagg satisfied so, as you can see, there is no shortage." He laughs.

"Thanks, but it's not that I don't like it...I...uh...I just don't really eat meat."

Silence falls and Volstagg gasps.

_ Here we go._

"What do you mean?" Thor asks, clearly confused.

"On Earth, er, Midgard, we have this thing called vegetarianism. It means you don't eat meat."

"Are all Midgardians forced to take part in this custom?" Volstagg asks, astonished.

"We aren't _forced_, and not everyone is a vegetarian," I say. "Just some."

Everyone but Frigga stares at me in utter shock and silence. Instead of looking at me like I grew a second head, the Queen waves over one of the staff. He comes over and crosses his arm over his chest politely.

"Could you get our guest a different plate, preferably one with no meat?"

He gives me a weird look, but nods and goes around the table to pick up my plate and walks away.

"Are there any more...abnormal customs that the people of your realm practice?" Fandral asks.

"I don't know about _abnormal_, but...um...we get driver's licenses. I don't know if that counts as-"

"Does this license privilege you with the right to ride a horse?" Lady Sif asks. Everyone has mirrored looks of confusion on their faces. Even the Allfather's single eyebrow is furrowed.

I laugh. "No. It allows you to drive a car without any parental guidance."

"A car?" Thor asks.

I nod. I'm beginning to wish I hadn't brought any of this up. "Yeah. A car is a big metal compartment thingy that is able to move on wheels."

"So it is a Midgardian version of a carriage?" Fandrall asks.

"Yes, just without the horses."

"Then how does it move?" Frigga says. "Does another animal pull it?"

Thor chuckles. He's been to Earth, he knows what I'm talking about. _Why aren't you helping!?_

"No," I pause trying to think of a way to describe a car without creating more questions. "It runs using an engine. It's supplied with gas which enables it to power the car. I don't know the details really, but that's the Cars for Dummies version, I guess." This reference goes right over their heads, but that's probably a good thing seeing as I called a bunch of Norse gods dummies. "Maybe I could give you all a ride when I get back home."

"That would surely be enjoyable," Fandral says, smiling at me. I roll my eyes then look back at Odin.

"_Speaking of Earth..._ when will I be able to go home? It's nice here and all, but I have an English paper and a job to get back to and my mom was gonna pick me up this weekend and if I'm not there, she'll freak." _And_ I just want to get back to what's normal.

Again, silence falls, but this time, instead of it being riddled with confusion, it's more of the we-have-some-bad-news type silence. Frigga glances at her husband, brow furrowed.

"What?" I ask. My stomach does a nervous flip.

No one answers so I look at Thor.

"What? I can tell something's wrong."

"We were going to wait until tomorrow to inform you," he begins slowly.

"Inform me of what?" I can feel queasiness coming on.

"When the Dark Elves forced open the Bifrost's portal, it was damaged," Frigga starts. "The Bifrost itself is intact, but the portal is not opening."

"What does that mean?" I already know the answer.

"It means," Thor says, "that there is no longer a functioning portal to Midgard."

"So I can't go home?"

"No."

"But you can fix it, can't you? You guys have magic. You're gods. You have a magic hammer thing!" I insist.

"I am afraid that we cannot," he says. "After Malekith left, we tried to open it, but to no avail. Heimdall is having trouble seeing anything on Midgard, or anywhere else in the Nine Realms, for that matter. This has never happened before."

"Will you ever be able to fix it?"

He looks down and shakes his head. "I do not know, Lady Freya. I am so-"

"Doesn't Loki have magic?" I ask. Frigga nods. "Then he can help open it, right? If he's got magic and other people have magic then you can open it together, _right?_"

No one says anything.

"_Riiiiiiight?_" The panic that had enveloped me when I had awakened in the infirmary threatens to overwhelm me again.

"I suppose you are correct, but I do not believe Loki will want to help," Odin says.

"Why?" I demand. "If it's because he's stuck in the dungeons again, I can see where he's coming from. I wouldn't want to help the people who randomly lock me up _after I helped save someone's life_, either."

"That, child, is not the reason."

"Then what is?"

"I do not think that Malekith had the power to close the portal in this way," Odin says. I glance at Thor then at Frigga. She looks tense and upset as she tries to not glare at Odin. "To close the portal and seal off Heimdall's sight, it would take very powerful dark magic which the Dark Elf does not possess, at least not alone. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that it was Loki who closed the portal after he brought you to Eir to be healed."

Frigga and I both stand up almost simultaneously.

"He did not-" Frigga starts, but I cut her off. I have broken all of Lifa's manner rules.

"But he saved me. How did he have time to close it without people noticing his absence? He couldn't have-"

"Why do you defend him in this way?" Odin asks calmly.

"I don't know, I mean, he saved me and...he..." I trail off, not knowing anything else to say in Loki's defense.

"I do not know when it occurred, or how they did it, but I know it was my adoptive son and that elf who closed the portal. In an hour's time, Loki is to be brought in for interrogation."

Thanks to Odin, the urge to thank the God of Mischief has left me.

"Can I go see him beforehand?" I ask. "I want to talk to him."

"I cannot allow that," Odin says. "He is dangerous and manipulative. No one is allowed to see him until after the interrogation. I do not want him getting into anyone's head, convincing them to help him. He has done it before."

"But-"

"No. I do not want you speaking to Loki until after I get the information out of him."

I need to know how he broke the portal and how to fix it. I won't be trapped here, and if Loki is my only way out, then I will get his help.

I yank my shoes off then start walking towards the exit.

"Lady Freya!" Thor calls.

I don't stop.

A chair scrapes lightly across the metal and then I hear Thor jogging up behind me.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Loki," I say.

"No!" Odin gets up too.

"My love, just let her go," Frigga says. "If she needs answers, so be it."

"No, Frigga, I have already—"

"I will take her, if she wishes to see Loki," Thor interrupts. "I will let no harm come to her. We will leave if he grows intolerable."

Before Thor even finishes, I am opening the door and walking down the hallway.

...

We walk in silence through corridors and down stair cases, gradually making our way further and further into the depths of the castle. (I don't get how people know where they're going in this place. Every single hallway looks like the last; gold floors, high ceilings, walls with the occasional window or door or majestic tapestry.) I look into a room as we pass and see a giant throne sitting on a raised platform with stairs leading up to in. In front of the platform are rows and rows of chairs.

Finally, we walk down one last stair case and stop in front of a pair of doors. Two guards stand ready to fight anyone who tries to enter without permission and right now, that's us.

"Stop," one of them says.

"Who are you here to see?" asks the other.

"My brother."

"You are not permitted entry," the first one says. "Allfather's orders."

"He gave me permission," Thor says. "And Lady Freya as well."

The guards exchange glances then look back at us.

"Very well," guard number two says. They step aside and pull the doors open.

Thor walks in and I follow a couple of steps behind.

As we get closer to the end of the long room, I see a man with shoulder length black hair sitting against a pillar, only a few inches away from glimmering electricity. His back is totally straight and his legs are crossed. It's not until we stop in front of him that I see his head is bent over a book.

"Loki," Thor starts.

The man looks up, a smile fades from his mouth and is replaced with a sly smirk.

"This is the third time you have come to see me, brother. Are you missing my company?" Loki says, standing up. He looks at me, scanning the length of my body with his emerald eyes. "You clean up well."

I don't say anything. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head slightly, showing off his perfect cheek bones.

"That was a compliment."

"Yeah, I know," I say.

He continues to gaze at me for a moment, his eyes narrow briefly, then he looks back at Thor. "Have you come to interrogate me, or merely gloat?"

"Neither. Freya wishes to speak to you regarding past events, all of which, unsurprisingly, involve you," Thor says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Tell me, what exactly are these events?" he asks, looking at me again. He leans forward, so close to the wall of golden electricity that he must be able to feel the static.

"Okay, well, ah..." I pause as I try to think of a good way to start the interrogation.

Loki raises an eyebrow at me and I glare at him.

_ Stop. Your perfect face is slightly distracting._

He chuckles, straightens, then carefully clasps his hands behind his back.

_ Can he tell what I'm thinking?_

As if in response, Loki nods. I stiffen and he lets out another short laugh.

"Since you are having some trouble beginning, I suppose _I_ will have to ask _you _the questions." He begins to pace. "I assume this has something to do with New York or me saving you. Or both, more likely. I am still waiting for you to thank me for my chivalrous act, by the way."

I laugh when he says this. "I am not thanking you." Loki rolls his eyes and it fuels my anger. "You tried to take over my planet and become the owner of the free world, you sent aliens to destroy the city of New York, you kinda killed a lot of people and you sent two of my professors and my friend to the hospital!"

"I am very sorry to hear that," he says seriously.

"No, you aren't."

"You are quite right, I do not care about the puny lives of mortals. But, in my defense, I was merely searching for a relic...and the Avengers, or whatever that silly name you call them is, helped to destroy the city."

"A relic, my butt, and don't go pinning this on other people!" I say. "You are totally at fault here."

Loki open his mouth to retort but I cut him off, "Then, on top of that, you decide to ruin my life even more _after_ you saved me."

"Explain how I ruined your life any more than I already have. I seem to be unable to recall what I did to you personally that was anything but hospitable."

I curl my fingers into a fist, feeling my nails dig into my palms, and close my eyes. When I open them again, I say, "Loki, I know you're lying."

"About what? Do enlighten me."

"You helped Malekith close the Bifrost's portal and made it so Heimdall can't see anything. And you helped him even though you saved me. Is this part of the plan? Keep me trapped here until Malekith has a use for me?"

Loki regards me quietly.

"You said the Bifrost is closed?"

"Yes. But you already know—"

"I had nothing to do with this."

"You had everything to do with this!" I cry.

Loki turns away from me and looks to his brother. "Thor, explain what this Midgardian wench is saying."

"You can't just call someone a wench!"

Loki ignores me.

"After the Dark Elves left, somehow the Bifrost's portal was blocked, as was Heimdall's Sight. The Bifrost itself is perfectly intact. Father believes it was the doing of very powerful dark magic. He believes it was you," Thor says.

"This is Odin's accusation?" the God of Mischief asks.

"Yes."

"He believes it was me."

"Yes."

"That old fool," Loki murmurs.

"Are you saying it wasn't you, then?" I ask.

"That is precisely what I am saying, mortal. Good for you to catch up."

"Then why would Odin automatically assume it was you?"

"Because to him I am a monster, a malfunctioning tool for which there is no use. He doesn't care for me, he keeps me locked away in a damp, filthy dungeon so he doesn't have the misfortune of looking at me. I believe it has to do with the events on your planet."

A door I hadn't noticed bangs open and two guards walk out, dragging something behind them. They walk to an empty cell and pull the thing up the stairs leading into the chamber. When the guards get to the middle of the cell, they lower the thing to the ground. It's a Dark Elf. And it looks dead.

I watch in horror as the guards walk away and I can see the body clearly. What used to be the elf's shirt lies around him in strips and tatters, the white material soaked through with dark red blood. His body is cut and bruised and through the holes in his clothes you can easily see long red marks that look like whip lashes. The lashes run up and down his arms, his legs, his back, his neck. In some places he was hit so hard that it looks like the skin is no longer there.

"Oh my god," I breath.

"Odin wants information," Loki replies to the question I didn't ask.

"You mean he did _that?_" A fleeting pang of sympathy for the elf runs through me.

"That is indeed what I mean. And due to recent events, I am willing to assume that I am next." Something flickers through the god's eyes. Was it fear?

"But it had to be you. You're the only one with enough magic to do that, right?" I ask, looking at Thor who has been strangely quiet through all this.

"My dear _girl_, do you not believe me?" he asks.

"No, not particularly."

"I suppose that was to be expected," he murmurs, turning away from me to look at the broken elf who is now moaning softly. Without looking at me, Loki whispers, so quietly I have to strain to hear him, "I did try to take over your realm, I did willingly kill any mortals who were or were not in my way, I did save you from Malekith the Accursed, and I can assure you I did not cut off the portal to Midgard."

Almost as soon as he says this, two guards walk over to Loki's cell, deactivate the force field and attach a cuff to his arm. Then they drag him down the steps.

"It is time we take our leave," Thor says. He places a hand on my back and together we walk towards the door.

I glance behind me briefly and see Loki looking over his own shoulder, watching me as he is pulled through the door. It bangs shut and I follow Thor out of the dungeons and back up the steps, leaving Loki to whatever punishment is about to befall him.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I sit at a small wooden table, half asleep, eating breakfast. Next to me, Lifa sits with her head buried in her arms, breathing softly. I'm pretty sure she's been asleep since we got to her family's small home. Lifa and her family live in a small, secluded part of the castle and were hired to help and live here when their house was burned down by barbarians. Now they live in the castle with the other people who work here. Her mother is one of the many cooks and her father is a carpenter. Her two older brothers help her mother and father and the youngest goes to lessons with other small Asgardian children.

For the past three mornings, the girl has taken to waking me up at the crack of dawn to show me around Asgard. She knocks on my door until I open it and when I do, she says something along the lines of, "Lady Freya! We are going on an adventure!" which is normally followed with my sleepy, "Just Freya," and the image of Bilbo Baggins running with a map flying behind him forming in my mind. Once I am fully dressed, we set out down a hallway. This usually ends with us walking in whatever direction has the best smelling food.

On my first full day here, Thor had sentenced me to my bed, insisting that I needed to heal and rest and regain my strength and all that jazz. I resisted and told him I was fine, but in the end he won and I curled up with my sketch book and a novel in front of the fireplace for the majority of the day. The next day, yesterday, Thor had promised to give me the grand tour of the palace and its grounds. Just as we were walking out of my room, a guard rushed over, saying something about Malekith and the Bifrost and how Odin had scheduled an emergency meeting (I was not invited, and I'm getting the sense that he does not like me very much after my actions at dinner) and Thor needed to be there. I asked Thor to tell me anything that happened or if they figured out what happened to the Bifrost—since everything kinda started with me—but he didn't and hasn't. So yesterday Lifa and I spent the day scouring my room for any secrets and ended up finding out that one of the windows opens onto a balcony, where stairs lead down to a large garden. We spent the rest of yesterday wandering among the flowers and trees.

"When is Thor gonna showya 'round?" Lifa murmurs sleepily.

"I dunno." I poke at one of the berries floating in the creamy broth of my...breakfast soup. "He said he'd be here—"

"Lady Freya! Are you ready for me to give you the most marvelous of tours?" Thor's voice finds us before the door even opens. When it does, it slams against the wall and he walks in, claps one of the cooks on the back and says good morning to everyone he passes.

"My dear Lifa. How fare you?" The god smiles.

"I am very sleepy," Lifa says, laughing.

"So I see." Thor strokes her blonde hair. "Go back to sleep. I'm sure this wooden surface makes the softest of pillows."

"Maybe if you didn't wake me up before the sun..." I shoot Lifa a pointed glance. She sticks her tongue out at me before laying her head back down.

"There is much to see, Lady Freya! It is best to begin early, lest we miss seeing something of great importance!"

"Well." I get up. "Let's hit the road."

I wave bye to Lifa, who mumbles something in return, then Thor and I walk out. As we wander down a golden corridor, Thor's eyes never leave my face.

I look at him. "What?"

"Why would one...hit a road?" His eyebrows knit together.

I smile at him and he gets more confused. "It's just a saying. On Midgard. 'Let's hit the road.' It means something like 'let's get going' or 'let's leave.'"

Thor nods. "I see. Very odd, but I suppose it makes some sense."

I smile at him, glad I'm making 'some sense.'

"Where are we going, anyway?" I ask after a while. We go through a doorway and stop in front of a spiral stair case. It's all made of gold and the light that never leaves illuminates the room, bathing the walls in a warm golden luster. Small stain glass windows are built into the wall and add purples, blues and green rays of light to the gold.

"We shall start the tour from the top most point of Asgard!" Thor says, pointing up. "Now, let us, uh, hit the road!"

I roll my eyes then follow him as he begins to walk again.

Minutes pass in silence, the only sound the thumping of our feet up the stairs. As we pass the twentieth window, I notice the faint howling of wind as it blows past the tower. We pass the twenty-third window. Then the twenty-fourth. Then the twenty-sixth and before I know it, I've counted up to forty-seven. The tower sways slightly in the buffets of wind, tipping an inch or so to the left then back in the opposite direction.

"We really don't have to go _all_ the way up, Thor. I'm okay with stopping here," I say, trying to disguise my heavy breathing. I press my hand to the wall and smile tightly up at him.

"But, Lady Freya, we are almost to the top! Just through that door." He motions to a door about five yards straight up. Thank the gods I didn't wear high heals today.

I sigh. "Fine."

Thor offers me his arm and I link mine through it, leaning against him slightly. We continue up and finally, after a few minutes more, we are at the door. Thor swings it open and instantly we are hit with a strong gust of wind.

"The wind is quite savage up here, so watch your step," he says.

I nod and walk on to the balcony. The view takes my breath away. Or it could be that the wind is blowing about fifty miles an hour up here, but whatever. It's not like I need to breath or anything. Once I pull the dark brown tendrils that are my hair out of my face, I walk to the edge of the railing, careful not to lose my balance once I'm there. Looking straight down, I see more castle spreading out before me. Looking out, I can see everything; the sea that floats and falls into the nothingness of space; the large forest; the Bifrost and the Rainbow Bridge; even some distant villages.

I brace myself against the golden railing and carefully let go, spreading my arms out like I could jump off and fly. Closing my eyes, I feel like I actually could. If I just got higher, just a little higher... Something tingles and burns inside me, the same sensation I had when Malekith was sticking me with needles.

"Lady Freya!" Thor cries, his voice sounds shocked and afraid.

The burning grows more intense. What did the Dark Elves put in me?

There's a whooshing sensation—that's the only way to describe it—and I wobble. My eyes snap open and I find that I am standing precariously on top of the railing and I have no memory of climbing up!

Thor grabs me around the waist and pulls me off. He sets me down next to him and looks at me, his face is pale and his golden blond hair blowing around his in the air and tangling itself.

"What in Odin's name were you doing?" he asks, keeping a hand on my back.

"I..." I trail off and shrug. _I wanted to fly_ sounds too stupid.

"Let's continue the rest of the tour," he murmurs and hurries off the balcony. He keeps his arm around my waist and doesn't let me go until the door is closed tightly behind us.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It is no matter. I was just...worried. How did you..."

"I don't know," I say slowly. "I was just standing there thinking that it felt like I was flying and then I was on top of the railing. There was this weird burning in my chest and it felt like it did when Malekith was injecting me with poison. D-do you think he did something to me?"

"I do not know. Do you wish to see Eir? I am sure she can help you." Thor regards me with soft eyes.

I shake my head. "Not now. I want to finish the tour."

He nods, scowling at nothing in particular. "Very well, then."

Thor nods once more then he loops his arm through mine, flashes me a smile and leads me back down the stairs. Sometime later, we finally reach the bottom and Thor and I walk down a long hallway. There's been a lot of those.

"At that end is the throne room, which you saw on your first night here. Over this way," we turn right, walking into a slightly wider hallway with large windows on either side, "is the entrance that leads to the Rainbow Bridge."

I look out the windows and, sure enough, I can see the Bifrost and the glimmering bridge. A minute later, Thor turns me around and we walk back out.

The tour continues, breaking for lunch, and afterward Frigga decides to join us. We walk past residence rooms, Thor pointing out his, Sif's, Volstagg's and Fandral's. I am tempted to ask where Loki used to sleep but decide against it. My room, Frigga tells me, is in a part of the castle dedicated to guests of great importance. _Aw, thanks._

When we round a corner, the sound of feet thumping on metal makes its way to us and a minute later Volstagg, Hogun, Sif and Fandral turn into the hallway.

"What is it?" Thor asks instantly, taking in their worried faces.

"It's Heimdall," Volstagg says.

"What? Tell me."

"He thinks he has found something," Fandral says. He winks at me and I wrinkle my nose.

"Or...well...somewhat. His Sight is still clouded, but he thinks that...um..." Sif stops, glances at me then purses her lips. She steps closer to Thor and whispers something to him. His eyes widen and he nods.

"I will come at once. Mother, can you continue Lady Freya's tour?"

Frigga forces her lips into a smile and says, "Certainly. Go now; Odin must surely need you immediately."

"Wait, what's going on? Is this about the portal breaking?" I ask.

Thor doesn't answer me right away, which answers my question.

"There is no need to worry," he starts slowly. "My father will have it all sorted out soon, so you—"

"Can I come? I'm just as mixed up in this as you guys are. More so, in fact."

"I am sorry, but at the moment the Allfather only wishes to see Thor," Sif says.

"_Please?_" I chew my bottom lip absentmindedly, glancing between the six of them and waiting for a response, but I never get one. I glare at them, trying to figure out what they're hiding from me, but after a minute I haven't gotten any closer to reading their minds.

"Okay, fine, whatever. Just tell me if the portal's fixed," I say, then follow it up with a low, "Which is probably asking too much."

"I will definitely inform you of the portal's well being, only if you promise to go to Eir once my mother finishes your tour of the palace," Thor says.

"Sure."

Thor raises his eyebrows.

"Fine. I promise I'll go to Eir."

When Thor went off to his first emergency meeting, I asked the same question and he gave me the same answer. He never told me anything that time, and I'm willing to bet he won't tell me anything this time either.

Thor smiles at me, then the five of them turn and dart off, leaving me and Frigga staring after them.

"Shall we continue?" Frigga asks.

I nod and we continue down the hallway, then take a quick left. We walk past some doors and windows, nothing exciting. A woman passes us. She walks briskly, holding a bucket full of water, and grimaces when it sloshes near the edge. Two children run toward us, then around us, kicking some sort of ball between them. I bet they'd love soccer.

"So..." I start, wanting to break the awkward silence that has been building between us since Thor left. "My Queen, what exactly is going on? I haven't heard anything and this is the second time Thor has disappeared, so I know _something's_ going on."

"Much like you, my child, I have not been included in the meetings. Even though that is the case, I have heard a little of what transpired in the first one," she says. Three people pass us and she nods politely at them. Each one places a closed fist over their heart when they see the Queen. Once they are behind us, she continues. "Heimdall's Sight returned during your first day here, but only briefly. They still do not know why."

"What is his Sight?" I ask. We pass a door way and I look into the room. Two toddlers peek their heads out at me. I give them a little wave and they squeal and run farther into the room. I hear small giggles accompanying the squeals and I smile, reminded of my young cousins.

"Sight grants a person the ability to see anywhere in the whole Nine Realms. He can see everything and anyone as long as they or it are not protected by magic greater than his Sight. It also allows him to see some way into the future. He is able to map out different events that could happen if one person changed one article of clothing, one change in step, one blink of the eye. The magic blocking the portal is only blocking the Bifrost and the portal, therefore Heimdall can still see Asgard."

"What if he leaves the Bifrost? Can't he see the realms then?" Hope bubbles in my chest, but the smarter, less naive part of me realizes that this is a world full of gods. Obviously Heimdall would have enough sense to try walking out of the giant golden orb.

"Sadly, no." The hope bubble pops. "Because the Bifrost's portal allows you to go anywhere in the Nine Realms, it is also the only way for him to see anywhere in the Nine Realms. He can still see into the future, but not as clearly. The magic has somehow blocked his Sight even when he has left the Bifrost. The only thing he can see clearly is Asgard. That is all."

"That means he can see if Malekith enters Asgard, he just won't know when."

She nods. "Luckily, the magic has left him able to see the whole of Asgard."

"Good." I take a deep breath, pushing away the memories from my brief moments of consciousness on the elf's ship.

The Queen smiles. "Do not worry, Freya. We will not let anything harm you while on Asgard — or anywhere, for that matter." She touches my cheek gently and raises my face so that I look into her eyes. Crows feet crinkle at the corners of her eyes. "I promise we will do everything in our power to protect you from Malekith and anything he tries to do to you."

I smile back at her, feeling tears of relief prickling at my eyes. I open my mouth to thank her but she stiffens. We've stopped walking and are standing a little ways from the stairs that lead to the dungeons. The Queen's face is growing pale, but in her eyes I see worry.

"What? What's wrong?"

Frigga closes her eyes tightly and tilts her head as if she's trying to hear a faint, far off sound. I listen too; for what, I do not know. A second passes, then another, and then I hear something. A small _thwack!_ followed by something that could pass as a moan. It's so quiet, I'm convinced I imagined it.

"What?" I repeat, this time in a whisper. Frigga walks to the top of the staircase and grips the railing. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

I follower her and watch, confused, as her eyes harden with anger. I begin to hesitantly repeat my question yet again, but before I can get out so much as a 'what,' Frigga whispers something and rushes down the stairs, sprinting towards the dungeon doors. Although her whisper was almost unintelligible, I could still make it out: _Loki_.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"_What?_" I cry as I watch her practically fly down the steps. "What do you mean, 'Loki'? What's going on!?" I run after her.

When I get to the bottom, the Queen is standing in front of the doors, arguing with a guard. She is holding the man by the shoulders.

"I am his _mother!_" she yells, shaking him roughly. "You let me in to see him. I want to see him, I _need to see him_. Let me in _NOW!_"

"M-m'lady, we were given specific orders from the Allfather not to let anyone in, even you. E-especially you... I am sorry." The guard cringes, ready for the Queen's wrath, but it does not come. Instead Frigga drops her hands to her sides and turns away briefly, composing herself and wiping away an angry tear. When she turns back, she is serious and calm. If she is still angry, she's hiding it well.

"I will deal with Odin. I will not let his punishment befall you. You have my word. Just please let me in." Her voice cracks at the end.

I walk closer to them and watch as the guard looks to the one standing on the other side of the door. The second one, looking extremely smug and relieved he wasn't confronted, shrugs uselessly. The first guard, who Thor had to convince to let us in, fidgets nervously.

"Just open it, numero uno," I mutter, receiving an odd glance from all three. Asgardians do not know Spanish.

After shaking his head at me, the guard nods and smiles weakly at the Queen. He reaches for the handle and begins to pull the large door open. Frigga sighs impatiently, knotting her shaking fingers into fists, blinking multiple times. When I look at her, I see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. But behind the tears I see the hard, fiery eyes of a mother who knows her baby has been hurt.

Finally, the door is open wide enough for us to slip through and I follow close behind as Frigga sprints to her son's cell. We stop and I follow her gaze to the two guards lowering the limp body of a man to the floor. They turn, see Frigga glaring at them, stiffen and hurry down out of the cell.

Frigga walks up the stairs and over to Loki who is lying on his side next to the day bed. I follow and stand a little ways away, staring at his wounded body. Loki's hair is matted with dried blood and sticks to his face and neck, which are both shining with sweat; a metal muzzle covers his mouth, muting him.

"Loki," Frigga whispers. "My son, I am here." A tear drips off her chin and splashes on his cheek. His eyes fly open and he flails, trying to push himself away from Frigga before he realizes who it is. "Loki! It is alright, it is just me. Loki, you are safe." She takes one of his hands in hers and holds it to her chest.

He focuses his eyes on her and nods, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The hand that isn't held in his mother's touches the metal covering his mouth and pulls at it weakly. He glares at me and points at it.

"Freya, help me sit him up. I need to remove his shirt to inspect his wounds. And please try to remove _this_." She motions to the muzzle.

I kneel down next to him and together Frigga and I help him sit up. Loki continues to watch me with slitted eyes. His eyes search mine and they look sad and pathetic, no signs of the cockiness that comes with successfully lying. He breaks into my thoughts by snapping his slender fingers in my face. He points at the metal contraption again.

"Okay... sorry. Calm yourself." I push some of his hair out of the way, holding it back with one hand, and peer at the metal. I find two little clasps and pull at them, gently at first, then harder when I realize they don't want to budge. Loki grabs my wrist, glaring daggers. He takes my hand and leans forward, pulls more hair away from his neck and shoves my palm against the metal. There's a soft click and the clasps unlock themselves.

Loki pulls the metal away from his face and tosses it into the corridor, a look of disgust on his face.

"Next time you wish to remove something from my body, it is best to ask how to do it," he hisses.

"Don't worry, that's the only thing I'm gonna remove from your body," I mutter. I fold my legs underneath me and sit with my dress flared around me.

"Loki," Frigga says. "I need to heal any hidden wounds. Where do you hurt the most?"

"My chest," Loki murmurs. He removes his shirt and drops it on the floor. His bare chest is riddled with bruises and small cuts that have already begun to heal. Thankfully it is not as gruesome as what was done to the Dark Elf.

Frigga closes her eyes and her hands begin to glow with a pulsing blue light. Whatever she is doing must hurt because Loki hisses and flinches away.

"Mother!" he says through clenched teeth.

"Loki, you have three broken rips and two bruised ones. Healing broken bones is a painful process but once I am through, you will feel much better," the Queen says sternly.

"Then please make it quick." Loki closes his eyes and winces slightly as Frigga gets back to work.

Suddenly, Loki's hand flies out and grabs mine. I allow him to use my hand as a stress ball until his grip threatens to cut off the circulation to my finger tips. I begin to talk, acutely aware of his hand still wrapped around mine, and his grip loosens as he focuses his eyes on me.

"One time I got this cut and my mom had to stitch it up and we didn't have any pain relievers in the house or numbing stuff so we had to use a crap load of ice," I say. Loki's eyes narrow and he frowns at me. "So she got out a needle and some thread she brought home from her office—she's a doctor—and held ice to my leg for two minutes until it burned because it was so cold—" Loki squeezes my hand as Frigga heals a particularly painful spot "—and then she started to sew it back up. It hurt like hell! She told me how sometimes if you squeeze something it helps take your mind off of the more painful thing. She also said that I should think about something I love in gruesome detail, so, because I was eight, I thought about my favorite ice cream flavors and squeezed a stress ball as hard as I could."

"I am not in the mood for Midgardian stories. So, if you could save me the trouble of listening to your bothersome voice and shut up, it would be most welcome," Loki says, regarding me coldly. He glances down at our hands and pulls his away with a hiss of disgust.

"Oh, riiiight," I say, ignoring him. "You don't know what ice cream is. I'll tell you. Ice cream is frozen milk that you put sugar and vanilla in, or chocolate or peanut butter or mint, or any flavor really. It's really good."

"Did I not make myself clear?" Loki leans forward and grabs my arm. "I do not care about your petty mortal practices, nor do I care about your mother's advice. Why, in all the Nine Realms, are you telling me this?"

"I was taking your attention away from the pain using my stupid stories," I say, smiling. "Apparently it worked."

He frowns at me then glances at his mother, who sits with her hands in her lap, the trace of a smile on her face.

"No 'thank you?'"

"Your help was...appreciated."

"Yay!" I cry. "You've leveled up!"

"What?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." I smirk at him.

"Is that an insult?"

I laugh. "No. It's a reference to video games. You wouldn't know what I'm talking about."

Loki opens his mouth but Frigga interjects. "Loki, your ribs are healed, so get up."

He stands, looking like a pouty toddler.

"Well?" I ask as I extend my hand towards him. "Aren't you going to be a gentleman?"

He arches an eyebrow.

"No?" I stand up. "Fine.

Loki rolls his eyes.

Frigga sighs, takes his face tenderly in her hands and kisses his forehead. She pulls him into a hug and he whispers something. His mother nods and he wraps his arms around her smaller frame. They stand there, locked in a tight embrace, but Loki is the first to let his arms fall to his sides.

"I love you, Loki," Frigga says, touching his face fleetingly. Then she turns and descends the steps. I follow her down and wait as she reactivates the electric field. Loki watches us turn and walk back to the two doors. Guard number one opens the door and we walk out.

"Thank you, number one."

"I beg your pardon, m'lady?" he asks.

I stop, looking up into his face. The hair that sticks out of his helmet is dirty blonde and stubble covers his cheeks and chin. "I haven't had the chance to ask your name."

"Ah, I see. I am Hagen, Son of Fell, and he is Jolgeir Arenson."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hagen. I'm Freya Ericsson." I stick my hand out and Hagen just stares at it.

"Oh...uh... Sorry. There's this thing on Ear—on Midgard where you shake hands when you meet someone." I slowly lower my hand.

Hagen grunts, nods, then says. "That seems very unsanitary."

"It probably is," I say, following it up with a low, "Has everyone here made a secret pact to criticize every aspect of my world?"

"M'lady, I apologize. I meant no disrespect!" He holds out his hand toward me and glances at me awkwardly. I take it and give it a firm shake.

"This is very, er, ah—"

"Midgardian is a good word for it," I say, smiling. Hagen nods, smiling back and Jolgeir grunts something that sounds vaguely like 'leave.'

"Bye, Hagen." I give him a two fingered salute then follow Frigga to the steps, waving bye to Jolgier over my shoulder.

We walk in silence, heading toward my room. I take this time to try to get over my annoyed feelings toward Loki. I guess I feel a little bit bad for him. Kinda. He looked extremely hurt.

But he was still a jerk.

"Frigga—I mean, my Queen, Loki didn't close the portal," I murmur.

"No, I do not believe he did either." Frigga looks at me curiously. "What makes you think so?"

"It's just, I just imagine he'd look more smug after refusing to tell the Allfather anything. He looked too defeated, I guess."

"That is very true. Odin did not get any information at all out of him."

Someone hurries past us, heading towards the throne room.

I turn my attention back to the Queen. "Then why is he still locked up?"

"Odin has his mind set that it was Loki who closed the portal and when he has his mind set on something he is not easily swayed. Just because Loki did not tell him what he wanted to hear does not mean my husband will stop trying to get it out of him." Frigga looks sad when she says this.

We come to a stop in front of my bedroom door. Frigga turns away from me and wipes her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I say. For the portal closing, for me putting Asgard in Malekith's radar, for Odin locking her son up, for her son being a jerk.

Frigga turns back to me. "I am, as well. You were right before. Loki's past and being continuously locked up has taken all the kindness out of him, I fear. Or at least all the kindness close to the surface."

I don't say anything, and Frigga smiles weakly.

"Though I suppose you would not agree. What he has done has caused many people to not see anything but cruelty in him."

"No...I don't know. He attacked my home so I have a biased opinion," I say. "But even though he did that, I don't think he closed the portal."

"That is quite alright and very true. I do not expect you to see anything in him. But I should leave you to your room. Dinner will be available to you if you desire to join us," Frigga says, smiling.

"Thanks. I'm very tired. Lifa's woken me up early for the past three mornings," I laugh.

"Come if you are up to it." Frigga pulls me into a quick hug then walks away.

I shoulder open the door and stand with my hand resting on the frame. I sigh, then kick it closed. Once the door thumps shut, I pull my dress off and toss it on the couch. In my closet I pull out a pair of soft pants and a cotton shirt, put them on, then walk out. I go over to my bed, pull the sheets up to the top and sit down, instantly sinking in to the mattress. My sketch book is on the end table closest to me and I pick it up, flipping to a blank page and begin to draw.

...

_ Thump thump._

I look up from my picture, leaving my crudely drawn sketch of Loki wearing weird armor with an arrow in his knee and a speech bubble over his head half finished. I toss it on the bed and swing my feet to the floor. "Yes? Who is it?"

"It is Lifa, m'lady. I was just wondering if you were going to dinner. It is being served as we speak."

I get up and open the door.

"No. I'm okay. Do you wanna come in though? I could use the company," I say, swinging the door open farther.

"If you would like me to, that would be splendid." She walks in. "What were you working on?"

I pick up my sketch book and hold it out to her.

"'I used to be kind like you, then I took an arrow to the knee,'" she reads. "Is this Loki? I did not know he was shot in the knee."

"Oh, he wasn't, or at least not that I know of. It's from this video game, an ongoing joke among its players," I say and take the book from her.

"A video game?"

I nod. "Would you like me to show you? I have some Midgardian stuff in my bag. We can hang out and I can teach you about our strange customs."

Lifa laughs. "By all means."

I grab my bag off its hook and lunge towards the bed, flopping down onto my stomach. Lifa pulls her shoes off and sits down next to me. I hoist myself into a sitting position and open my messenger bag.

"So my laptop should be in here," I say, looking in the pocket. But it's not. "Crap!"

"What is it?"

"I left my laptop in Starbucks! Freaking Malekith! Crap! It's probably still sitting there. I put everything in my bag except for my laptop. Good going, Freya, very smart."

"Starbucks?"

"It's a small store that sells drinks and muffins," I mutter. I open another flap and pull out my phone. "At least I still have this. Wanna take a selfie?"

"Um..."

"A picture. It's a stupid name for taking a picture of yourself."

"A picture? On there?"

I sigh. "I'll just show you." I press the power button and after a couple seconds the white Apple logo appears on the screen.

"How did you do that? Is it some form of magic or technology?" Lifa stares in wonder at my iPhone.

"Technology. It runs off of a battery that you can recharge using electricity." The apple disappears from the screen and my apps appear in front of me. I choose the camera and hold the phone in front of Lifa's face.

"Smile."

She smiles and I tap the screen to take the picture.

"Okay. Look." I open the picture and hold the phone for her to see.

"Oh my! How is it able to capture the image?"

"It has something to do with pixels but I don't really know, to be honest. Come in closer. This is what you'd call a selfie." I get both of our faces on the screen and smile at the camera, snapping the photo. "Ta-da!"

"This is most peculiar," Lifa whispers, taking the phone from my hands.

"Yeah. It really is, if you think about it," I say.

"May I try?" she asks.

"Go ahead."

Lifa sticks her tongue out, taps the screen and laughs. "This is quite fun. Make a strange face."

I blow up my cheeks and Lifa takes the picture then gives me the phone. I flip through the pictures.

"I'll save these forever," I say, then turn off the phone. _Good bye beautiful technology._

"We must take more amusing ones later." Lifa hops up. "Are you hungry?"

"_Very_."

"What would you like? I can get you anything you wish." She pulls her shoes back on and stands, looking at me expectantly.

"Warm bread. Just plain warm bread and freezing cold water," I say, lying back on the covers.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, would you like me to come with you?"

"No. You finish your drawing. I will only be a moment." Lifa smiles and walks out. I pick up my sketch book.

Ten minutes later (give or take a few) Lifa returns with a tray. On it are two loaves of steaming bread and a pitcher and cups. We spend the rest of the evening comparing Midgardian and Asgardian culture and phrases. She found pre-ripped jeans and boys wearing their pants too low especially funny. Lifa tells me what she knows about Odin and Loki's relationship when I ask, though her knowledge is limited. She does not know exactly what happened that made Loki thirst for power, but she did say Thor had something to do with it. Apparently Thor was banished by Odin to another realm and during the banishment, Odin went into something called the Odinsleep. Whatever that is. So Loki, being the only heir at that time, became King for a short while. Something happened with creatures called Frost Giants, then Loki wasn't seen again until he invaded New York.

"The only time he has been out of his cell since was when he saved you. But now he is locked up again. I've heard rumors in the kitchen that it is because he closed the portal. Is that true?" Lifa pulls off a hunk of bread and eats it. "This bread was a very good idea, by the way. I never thought to eat it plain like this."

"Sometimes bread is all I eat for dinner," I say. "But, yeah, the portal did close."

"So Loki really did close it and that means we are all trapped here."

"It wasn't Loki," I murmur absentmindedly. I had never stopped to think about how this affected the people of Asgard, I just selfishly thought about how it affected me. I guess I just assumed it didn't effect them. Malekith not only trapped me here, but he has every individual on Asgard trapped. He must not want them going after him.

"Lady Freya?" Lifa says, touching my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, sorry. And you can just call me Freya. The 'Lady' isn't necessary."

"Very well...Freya. If I may ask, what had you so lost in thought?"

I rip away some bread and stuff the whole piece in my mouth. Talking around the food, I say, "It wasn't really anything super fantastic." I swallow. "I just really want to know what Malekith wants with me and why he decided to trap everyone here instead of just me. Oh, and Loki didn't have anything to do with the portal closing. It was all Malekith."

Lifa blinks. "How...how are you so certain?"

I think about this. How _am_ I so certain, really? It's partly what I told Frigga before. Also, part of me wants magic to help open the portal. But is it really worth letting out someone such as Loki, who kills and doesn't regret it, just because he _might_ be able to open the portal?

"I don't know. He just looked very un-Loki-like the dungeons, and I'm taking that as a sign."

I don't really know _for sure_ if Loki did or did not close the portal, but I'm willing to trust the minuscule part of me that trusts him. And if the only way for me to figure out what's really going on is to let Loki out, then I that's what I'm going to do. But the only way to do that is with Odin's help, and I don't think it will be very easily won.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

—if you help me I will not hurt you the voice harsh cold emotionless says; no please, my voice is far off and whimpering, a baby voice, I am not a baby but my begging says otherwise; PLEASE I don't want to be tortured any more please, needles come towards me dripping purple blackness to the floor; then help me the voice says; NO I cry, pushing pushing away it's face his face pushing away the needles that get closer and closer promising doom and pain and dark promising death; I don't want to die I don't want to die, please, I cry, please I don't want to die; the man smiles an evil evil smile and snarls at me; I am an infant crying because I am lost and my mother is not there, I am an infant and I am helpless, I am glass and able to break and this man is about to break me to splinters that he will crush into dust; I will blow away in the wind; then help, he says, help me find it, help me find it and I will spare you for now, help me find it and I will prolong your measly life until I no longer have a use for you but only if you help me; his voice is amused, he is having fun watching me cry and break; I will let you live but only if you help me, he whispers; a hand grabs my face and pushes me back, a hand strangles me and pulls me to look into his cold cold eyes white cold eyes, no kindness there, no remorse there; please, I gasp; I try to take a breath but there is no air, there never was; I'm drowning in nothing, in space, in water that feels like air; your pleas for help do nothing girl, the man says; sharp pain in my arm in my back in my shoulder, paralyzes me and I am stuck; I can almost talk and what I say is: I will never help you, you are a monster and I will not help you ever; adrenaline pulses in my veins for an instant, only an instant enough for me to get out one last thing before my lips freeze never moving again, never moving ever, I will not help you so you can screw off and kill me if you, want I don't care; laughing cold dark laughing, Malekith's cold dripping laughter fills my ears full of evil and darkness and ice and black; his humorless laughter continues as stinging pain hot and sharp goes into me, flooding my body with hot red lava, electricity, something alive and dead and moving and still; then someone's screaming and it fills me to the brim, it comes scraping up my own throat and bursting out my own mouth pushing past my teeth and it cuts and it bleeds its way out and it shreds and tears my vocal cords with poison ice and purple nothing and there's just screaming and pain and screaming and pain and screaming—

I bolt upright in bed with a yell. I pull the sheets I had thrown off in the night back over me and shiver. The dream swirls in my head, around and around, and my screams echo in my mind. I suck in breath after breath after breath trying to calm my heart and my shaking hands and my shuddering body. It was just a dream. Just a dream. But it felt so real, like he was here in my room.

"Just a dream," I say out loud, hoping to convince my heart to stop its racing. It doesn't.

Rays of yellow light make their way through the cracks in the curtains. Tunnels of gold and light yellow shine against my floor and walls, glinting against the marble and gold. I focus on them, still trying to keep my heart in my chest. Finally, after what feels like forever, the shaking has left me and I now feel cold and empty. I decide it's as good a time as any to take a bath.

Once I've picked out an outfit, I walk into the small bath room and turn the faucet on. Steaming hot water splashes down, instantly filling the tub. I hang my clean dress on a hook, place a towel on the floor and another close by for when I get out. I strip off my clothes and cringe as they stick to me with slimy dream-sweat. Dropping my clothes on the floor, I step into the tub and settle back in the warm water. I dip my head under and lay there until my lungs begin to get uncomfortable. Suddenly, I remember the drowning sensation from my dream and I gasp, water fills my mouth. I resurface, coughing and gaging. I grab the bar of soap from a small tray connected to the bath tub. Quickly, I begin to wash my body, then my hair and face. When all the sweat is gone, I put the soap back on the tray and lay back again.

I close my eyes and splash water on my face, then I let the sudsy water drain before filling the tub with clean liquid warmth. When it's filled again, I examine the bottles and small containers that are next to the soap on the tray. Three of the bottles are filled with little colored beads, purple, green and bright pink. I pick up the bottle full of purple beads and pour a few into the palm of my hand. One slips out between my fingers and plips into the water. Pieces of the bead shoot out, looking almost like fireworks, and float down to the bottom of the tub, coloring the water a pretty light purple as they go. I sprinkle the remaining beads over the water, watching as my bath water changes to a deep purple. Where the pieces of bead landed, little bubbles trail up, tickling my legs and arms before popping. I feel like I'm in a tub full of grape soda, minus the flavor.

I sit, watching the bubbles, and let my mind slowly makes it's way to my problems. I'm stuck in Asgard and there's most likely no way to open the portal unless Loki gets out. But the only way to do that is to get Odin's approval and in the last few days, I have not gotten off on the right foot with him. The bubbles pop around me for a minute longer then get out.

When I've dried off and put on the dress, I pull my hair into a loose braid and tie it off. I let the tub drain and walk back into my room. I slip my feet into some green flats and exit my sleeping quarters. It's still early and not many people are up and moving about. I decide that's for the best as I don't feel like talking to anyone. After some wandering, I decide to only taking lefts so I'll be able to get back to my room without difficulty.

I stop walking after my fifteenth or sixteenth right (I had begun to switch directions every now and then after walking the same four hallways three times). At my thirteenth right, I had found my way to part of the castle that was neglected during my tour and I now stand in front of a room slightly smaller than the throne room. In it is a long table with maps and books and papers strewn across it. I take a tentative step inside and when I see no one else around, I walk over to the table.

I pick up one of the papers and look at it. Words are written in a language I don't know; I assume it's Norse given the fact that I'm in Asgard and even with my mythology class, I was never taught how to read Norse. Most of the papers are covered in this writing save for a few that have pictures on them. I'm about to put them down when a name I recognize catches my eye. Malekith.

I stare at the page, squinting down at the words and trying to make out anything else that looks remotely English, but can't. I flip the page over and as I do, a sheet slips out of my hand and flutters to the floor. Picking it up, I see the drawing of a circle with a small hole in the middle. Some words surround it with lines connecting them to the picture, all of which are in the unknown tongue. At the bottom of it I spot Loki and Malekith's names written side by side and below them are more sentences I can't read.

"Freya!"

I freeze.

"What are you doing here?" Odin says from behind me.

I spin around. Thor, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three stand watching me. Some other people I don't know stand behind them. Odin is glaring at me, waiting for a response, but Thor and Lady Sif look amused.

"I was just...uh...I was just—"

"Bringing yourself into something you were not meant to be a part of?" Odin's eyebrow raises.

"No! No, I wasn't! I just saw Loki and Malekith's names below this circle thing and all this Norse gibberish and I want to know why. And also what this drawing is."

"That is none of your concern," Odin says, regarding me calmly.

"Does it have to do with the Bifrost's portal and me?"

"Yes—"

"Then it is totally of my concern!" I cry. "Why are you hiding this stuff from me? I'm involved in all of what's happened and I should know, don't you think that's fair? Because I do." The Allfather doesn't say anything so I continue. "I want to know why I'm here and what Malekith wants just as much as you do. And all I know so far is that you falsely accused Loki of closing the portal. That's it, that's all!"

"Falsely accused him? I did no such thing! Little girl, you do not know nearly as much as you think you do. Loki is the only one who could have closed the portal, this I know for fact. I would advise you to close your mouth before you say something you will regret." Odin stares me down and I feel the urge to flinch away, but instead I stand taller.

"What are you gonna do? Torture me like you did your own son?" I ask, throwing the papers onto the table and taking a step towards him. "How do you even know he did close the portal? What is your reasoning?"

"What happened to Loki," Odin says, "was only a way to get the information I needed."

"That is a load of bull! That was torture! I saw what you did to the Dark Elf and then you did the same to Loki! That is torture no matter how you justify it."

"Are you done defending the man who killed hundreds of your people?" Odin is calm and collected and it ticks me off.

I take a deep breath, shuddering as fragments of my dream float through my mind. "No, I am not defending him at all, whatsoever, I'm just saying that he didn't have anything to do with the portal closing so you tortured him for nothing. The one thing I don't understand is why Loki got less of a punishment than the Dark Elf? It's obviously not because he's your son, so...why?"

"The reason Loki did not receive as drastic a punishment as the Dark Elf was because he told me part of what I needed to know. Who closed the portal was not my only inquiry, just a part of the reason I brought him in for questioning. Now leave. I will not answer any more of your questions." Odin flicks his hand dismissively. "Thor, please escort her back to her room."

"But I don't want to go back to my room," I say. Thor places a hand against my back and murmurs, "Freya, please. You must take your leave."

"If you wish to wander free at all, you should be quiet," Odin calls as Thor tries to get me through the door.

I whip around, pushing Thor's arm off of me. "Are you threatening to—"

"Lady Freya, please," Thor says.

"Fine," I mutter, turning back around.

"You must really try not to get in trouble," Thor chuckles.

"I'm not trying to get myself in trouble, believe me. I just don't get why I'm not being included in anything."

"That will soon change, I believe."

"Will it?" I cross my arms.

Thor sighs. "You do not have to go to your room, just do not come to this part of the castle again. Odin will not be very pleased if you do."

"I can only imagine." I stop walking and Thor looks at me.

"What is it?"

"I want to know why he thinks Loki closed the Bifrost."

"If he sees you in there again, he will be very unforgiving."

Thor is looking me in the eye. I stare back, frown, then turn and run back to the room.

When I enter, I see Odin hunched over looking at something with his back facing me. "What are you doing here? I told you to leave," he says without looking up.

"Just hear me out," I say, raising my hands up defensively.

"I will not 'hear you out.' I do not even know what that means; that phrase makes no sense. Leave. Now." He waves his hand and two of the unknown people walk towards me. They grab my arms and begin to drag me back.

"If you know that Loki didn't do it, would you let him out so he can help open the portal back up?" Odin straightens. I've gotten his attention, whether this is good or bad remains to be seen. "He has magic and that'd probably be extremely useful! More useful than staring at a map and drawing pictures."

Odin turns and raises his hand. The two men stop dragging me. "Why do you insist it was not him? How are you so certain he was not the one who closed it?"

"I...I just know," I mutter.

"You just know. That is very reassuring. I will definitely let a murderer out because you just know."

"Okay, hold up." I pull one arm out of the person's grasp and inch away from the other. "How do you know he did, in fact, close the portal? Do you just know that, too?"

Odin glares at me, clenches his hands, grits his teeth. I'm getting under his skin and I'm beginning to realize I might not want to be there.

I continue anyway. "If we are both going on hunches, wouldn't it be better to take the chance that he isn't the one who closed it? I'm sure you have ways of watching him closely, so if he acts up, you can just toss him back in jail. But if he's out he can help open it back up if he has the amount of magic you say he does. And if he doesn't have enough, he can still use the magic he does have to help everyone figure this out. The more people the better and he's not much help locked up."

"If I were to let him out, I would have nothing to do with anything he does," Odin says, tapping his fingers against the table top.

"So you're letting him out then?" I ask hopefully.

"No."

"Come ooon!"

"I suppose I will consider your request and tell you what I have decided in two day's time. But until then, I do not wish to hear any more concerning the matter." He turns back to his papers. "Now, I ask again, Thor escort her out. I have some business to discuss with you once you return."

Thor and I return to the hallway. "I will come by later today. Try not to get yourself into any more trouble." He smiles at me.

"Oh Thor, why on earth would I do that?" I mutter, patting him on the shoulder and smiling innocently up at him.

"One can only guess." He chuckles.

With one last smile Thor turns and walks back to the meeting.

And that is how I decided to try and release the murderer who may or may not have screwed my life up permanently.

Wow. Good going me.


	9. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Guys! I am so sorry about the wait. I have been swamped with homework and sports and school and I have had no time to write. I have also had severe writers block, but hopefully that it going away soon. Anyways, I have gone through and revised all the previous chapters and now they are less typo-y. I haven't changed that much, but now third person is in present tense instead of past tense, Freya has a tattoo (it will be explained later) and just some general things have been changed. I believe that is all I need to update you guys on. Enjoy the chapter, and again, I am sorry for the wait!

Chapter 8

"Hi Hagen, hi Jolgier," I say as I hop off the second to last step. Jolgier grunts a hello and Hagen smiles politely.

"May I ask what brings you here, m'lady?" Hagen takes my hand and gives it a firm shake.

"Official Allfather business." I wiggle my eyebrows and reach for the door handle. I stop when Jolgier's sword comes flying down and smacks against the door. "Geez! Sorry! I was joking, god...s."

"My apologies," Jolgier mutters and returns to his place.

"I was just bored and the person I normally hang out with has classes." I plop down on the base of a pillar. "What's up?"

Hagen glances above him then gives me a weird look. "I do not understand. The sky? The ceiling?"

I snort, trying not to laugh. "No, no—" I clear my throat and push down the rest of my laughter. "On Midgard we have a bunch of weird sayings. I didn't noticed how weird they were until I came here."

"Oh. Well...what does 'what's up' mean?" he asks. Out of the corner I see Jolgier look at me.

Welcome to Weird Midgardian Sayings with Freya Ericsson!

"It means 'what are you doing' or 'what've you been doing,'" I say.

Hagen nods. "I see. What other strange alternatives do Midgardians have for perfectly acceptable ways of saying things?"

"Um... They all sound normal to me so I can't think of any. Uh." I think for a moment. "What do you think 'the elephant in the room' means?"

"What is an elephant?" Hagen asks.

"Oh my gods," I mutter under my breath, then louder, "It's a type of animal. Just think of any really big creature and insert it into the phrase."

"Well, alright." He frowns and stares at something off in the distance, thinking. "Does it possibly mean that there is just an abnormally large creature in a room? That makes no sense. How could you possibly get it in? Is it a large room? Does it have a large door? How—"

"No, it's a figure of speech. It's not literal." I look at Jolgier. "Do you know?"

He shakes his head.

"It refers to something that people don't want to talk about. For example, people don't talk about the portal closing when I'm around. Therefore it is the elephant in the room."

"That is very odd," Jolgier murmurs.

"Yup. Do you guys want to learn more about Midgard or should we take it one phrase at a time?" I get up and stand in front of them, ready to be a teacher.

"No, please. Go on." Hagen extends a hand towards me.

For the next two and a half hours I explain as many phrases as I can. At one point we get into politics and Hagen says how our government sounds '...interesting...' and Jolgier—who actually started talking—says how it, and I quote, 'does not seem functional.' And I didn't even say much about it. When I ask about this, they admit it's because they did not want to say something that could come out against their government or belittling towards the Allfather. They must know his punishment techniques.

We talked and laughed the whole time. Hagen and I did most of the laughing, though at one point, Jolgier let a smile slip (We're making progress!). Within the thirty minutes leading up to the three hour mark, I have taught them about all the weird fads like what the Harlem Shake and Gangnam Style are and talked in extent about The Lord of the Rings.

Apparently the elves from the series greatly resemble the Light Elves from the realm of Alfheim, though I do not know where or what it is.

"Lady Freya," a guard says.

I turn. Three guards stop at the base of the stairs.

"The All-Father wishes to discuss something with you," another adds.

"Is it about my attitude?" I ask.

The third guard shakes his head. "No. Just come with us. You will see soon enough."

I groan, say excuse me to Hagen and Jolgier and follow the three guards up the stairs and down the hall. Instead of going back to the meeting hall, we go to the Throne Room. Odin sits with a staff in his hand and a gold helmet on his head that matches his armor. The guards lead me to the bottom of the steps and come to a stop.

"I have come to a decision," says the All-Father.

"About...?" I cross my arms. It can't possibly be about Loki. He said two days, it's only been three hours.

"About Loki's release."

Never mind. "That was fast." I cross my arms.

"Yes, though I am still not sure it is a good decision." He regards me cooly before continuing. "I have decided that, if he is willing to cooperate, it will be in the best interest of Asgard to let Loki out. I do not know if he will, but please try."

"Okay, anything else?"

"If he is released, he will be let out under your watch. You will be totally responsible for all he does or does not do," he says.

"So I'm his probation officer?"

"If on Midgard that is what you call it, then I suppose you are." No one here knows what I'm talking about, I think as Odin stands and motions for me to walk up the stairs. When I am standing next to him, he says, "Take this." He holds out a metal disk the size of a quarter. "If he is to come with you, place it on his skin and activate it by touching the sensor in the center. It will impede his magic."

I take it and put it in the pocket of my dress.

"Now hurry along. I do not have all day. If he is going to come with you, I want to explain everything to him quickly so this can all be over and done with." He sits back in his chair and rests his chin on his finger tips.

I sigh then turn and walk back down the steps. One of the guards accompanies me out and we make our way back to the dungeon. Hagen looks at us when we approach.

"Hello again," I say. "I'm here on official Allfather business, and I'm not lying this time!"

"That is very good to hear." Hagen turns to the guard standing behind me, nodding at him politely. "Lidolv."

"Hagen," the guard says, nodding back. "Lady Freya is here to speak to Loki about his release. If he comes, he will be under this girls watch from this moment on."

"I fear I misheard you, Lidolv. Are you saying you are trying to reason with the criminal?" Hagen's eyes flick between us but finally settle on me. "Lady Freya, surely you are not doing this!"

"Yes. The Allfather thinks that his magic would be able to help, with the portal, I mean," I say.

"V-very well, then." Hagen opens the door for us. "Good luck."

The guard and I walk down the corridor. Other prisoners sneer at us, some calling out to me as we make our way to Loki's cell. We stop in front of it and see him lying on the day bed, tossing a cup up, letting it flip through the air before he catches it. The guard places his hand on the wall near the stairs and this time only a section of the golden electricity shimmers away.

"I have been seeing quite a lot of you since you've arrived here. Are you growing fond?" Loki says, not looking at me as he continues to toss and catch the cup.

"No, definitely not, don't get your hopes up," I say. I enter his cell and the force field shimmers back into place behind me. No going back now.

He looks at me, catches the cup before it hits him in the face and sits up, taking me in as I stand before him. "If you aren't here to gaze at me, which is quite surprising, then why are you here? And make it quick, I do not enjoy your presence soiling my chambers."

"I'm here to talk." I pull a stool over and sit down, staying far enough away that if he tries anything, it would register before it's too late.

"What do we possibly have to talk about?" Loki places the cup on the table that sits between us and gets up, lacing his fingers behind his back. He begins to pace in front of me, looking like a cat that doesn't know whether to keep playing with the mouse or kill it.

"It's more a proposal really."

"Concerning what?"

"Your release," I say. I stand up when he stops and begins to laugh.

"He cannot be considering this again. Why would he let me out a second time if you and Odin both think it was I who closed the portal?" I don't answer and after a moment of silence, he slowly turns to face me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, so this is not what you believe. Tell me, what finally opened your small brain to the idea that I did not help Malekith?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was the twinkle in your eye," I say, sarcastically. "Anyway, who said anything about me believing you?"

"No one, but why else would you be here?"

I can feel him poking through my thoughts, picking ones out, reading them like books, then putting them back. It feels almost as if I'm remembering something that I'd forgotten, the memories, the experiences coming into perfect clarity as he pulls them into my consciousness. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed with the feeling of pain. The memories of my screams and the eerie remnants of Malekith's laughter fill my brain. Loki has picked out my dream and isn't putting it back.

I try to look him in the eye, try to tell him to stop, but when I open my mouth all that escapes is a moan. He pokes more forcefully at the memory, spreading it out to all the far corners of my brain. Needles poke into me, spreading pain and poison throughout my body. Screams fill my lunges and spill out into the room. Malekith's laughter surrounds me. More pain and screaming and pain and screaming and—

"STOP!" I scream, backing away. "Stop it now!"

Loki grins at me. "Touchy subject?"

"No shit Sherlock. Now get out of my head," I growl.

"But your thoughts are just so interesting." His smile widens.

Shut up and get the hell out of my mind! I clench my hands into fists and stare as angrily as I can at him. He sighs and turns away from me. I mean it, Loki. I feel him finally leave.

"Back to the conversation at hand; what does Odin want? He cannot be freeing me merely because he cares, so what is his plan, his plot?"

"He wants you to help—"

"What with?"

"I was getting to that, stop cutting me of. But, in any case, I think you know what I was about to say." I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms.

"Do enlighten me," he says with a flourish of his hands. I roll my eyes. I can almost see the sarcasm oozing off of him.

"He wants you to help open the portal; he assumes you have enough magic to do so. That's why he's willing to let you out." I twirl the end of my braid around and around my fingers, waiting for his response.

"Why would I do that?" Loki asks.

My hands drop to my sides. "What?" I stare at him, confused.

"Why," he takes a step closer to me, "would I help my father, the man who locked me away? Why"—closer—"would I help you, an insolent Midgardian wench who does not belong here? And why"—he closes the distance between us and looms over me, tall and menacing, his eyes filled with hatred—"would I help anyone in this miserable realm when it is so very fun watching everything fall apart?"

I take a step back and become acutely aware of how close the force field is behind me. Loki takes another step towards me, pinning me between him and the electric barrier.

"Well?" he hisses. His eyes flash red and I gasp. Did I just see that or am I imagining things?

I shake my head, take a deep breath, stand straighter and feign confidence as Loki glowers down at me. "Because," I push the nervous shake out of my voice, "you want to get out of your cage and I want to get out of Asgard. My only way out is with your help so that means you get out too, our fates are intertwined." I sidestep around him and move to the center of the room.

"You seem to be overestimating my willingness to oblige. I have no urge to help you or any one at this time nor will I ever, so," he re-clasps his hands behind his back, "you can leave."

"Don't you want to get out?" I cry. He dips his head and lets out a short laugh. "This is your last chance so you can either take it or leave it. All you have to do is help!" I pause and close my eyes. I don't want to sound desperate. I mean I am but I don't want him to know. I look Loki in the eye a moment later. "Please."

Loki stops pacing and looks at me. "If you are going to beseech me, do it properly. Get on your knees and beg for my help. Kneel and I may consider it."

I laugh. "You're acting so high and mighty. I have offered you a chance to get out of this place." I gesture wildly around me. "Yet, you're still acting like you are the one in control. I'm sorry to break it to you, but you aren't. I am. I'm the one who can get you out or keep you in and right now I'm leaning towards the latter. You will help and I promise it won't be because I knelt."

He lunges at me and pushes me up against the wall, pressing his hand against my throat. I gag and Loki laughs. Where the heck is the guard?

"Mark my words, mortal," he hisses close to my ear. "I will get out eventually, whether it is because of your bargain or not, and when I do, I will set your pathetic realm on fire, I will burn it until there is nothing left and break every aspect of your silly lives. And then finally, when this bravery you so flawlessly wear has crumbled to nothing but dust, you will kneel." His hand tightens around my throat and I see lights bursting before my eyes. "In the end you will always kneel."

I blink, desperately trying to clear my vision. I give up and just glare at him through the dots as I try to poke into his mind, flip through it like a magazine, pick out papers then put them back, using it as a filing cabinet. But I can't so I stare at his eyes and push my way through the anger and hatred to the emotion buried deep below. It's the look when you realize the person you loved has lied to you, the look you see as a person watches their friend walk away, declaring never to speak to them again. It's the same look I see in my mother's eyes after she fights with my dad for the hundredth time. He apologizes, tells her he loves her, and then the next month, the next week, he screams at her and she watches as he walks out. And she thinks that it was her fault, that it was something she did to make him act this way, make him give up on her. It is that same look.

Betrayal.

Did Odin do this to him? Did his own father hurt him enough to etch that emotion permanently into his eyes? Whatever happened, I'm going to figure it out and if he still refuses to help, the knowledge might come in handy.

"You want something else," Loki whispers, breaking me away from my thoughts. "What is it?"

I can barely see let alone breath and the mere thought of oxygen is a dream. His hand loosens then and I knock it away. I collapse and rest my head against the wall, sucking in breath after sweet breath.

"No matter. I see no use in fulfilling the inquiries of a child."

The guard, who just now realizes something is going on and that he probably needs to stop whatever it is, rushes over. He opens the section of the electric wall and comes up the stairs.

I stand up, rubbing my neck, and say, "When you're ready to cooperate, tell a guard to get me and we can broach the subject again." The guard follows me down the stairs and closes the force field behind us. We walk towards the exit. "But until then," I call over my shoulder, "I bid thee farewell!"


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"I believe that is five more points for me," Thor says, sending me a triumphant smirk.

I groan, but smile. "Yes, yes it is. How are you so good at this?" I scratch five more lines under the T drawn in the dirt. Tossing my second to last pebble, I watch as it lands in the outermost ring of the target. I glare at Thor when he let's out a cheer then draw one line under my F.

"It seems"—he tosses his final pebble and it lands in the dead center of the target—"that I have won."

I scuff out the target and scores then turn to Thor who wears a smug grin. "You have beaten me at everything. How are you so good at all these games? Tic-tac-toe, rock paper scissors, Go Fish, throwing a stupid pebble at a target drawn in the dirt."

He laughs. "It seems I have a natural gift for these simple Midgardian amusements."

"Seems so," I say. "What shall we do now? Another game? Figure out why you have a hundred percent success rate at destroying me? Or figure out a way to make Loki help us?"

"I've had a thought, and it is much more enjoyable that all three of those options," Thor says.

"What? My children's games aren't fun for you?"

"They are far too easy for my level of talent. If I were not so gifted, perhaps they would be more interesting." Thor laughs.

"Okay, smart ass. What's your idea, since all of mine are dull?"

"You must be growing tired of having nothing to pass the days..." he begins.

"Yes...you are five hundred percent correct," I say. "Keep going."

"How would you like to see the Armory?"

...

...

"Holy—" A glare from Thor cuts me off. "I was gonna say, 'crap.'"

"I'm sure." He leads me into the large hexagonal room. All the weapons I could possibly imagine cover the walls. Sheaths of arrows hang one after the other next to dozens of longbows. Another wall is covered in long swords, shorter swords and in-between swords. Next to them hang golden shields, silver shields and coppery ones. Spears and maces and other weirder-looking sharp things cover the remaining walls.

I walk over to the bows and pick one up. It is made of wood that has been smoothed and glossed over. In the bow itself, as if it had been infused into the wood, are thin veins of silver and gold.

"Would you care to try?" Thor says from behind me.

"With this? No! I'd probably break it...or break me." I set it back gently.

"No, definitely not," he chuckles. "I would not start you out with an actual bow or sword for fear of you harming yourself or someone else."

"We both have no faith in my abilities," I mutter, touching the bow once before turning to follow Thor.

He leads me through a door into another, smaller room. Hanging on these walls are wooden training weapons and dull metal swords that look like they couldn't even chop a banana. He pulls two wooden long swords off their hooks and grabs a small training bow and a sheath of arrows from a box then walks out another door.

We walk out into a small patio outside the castle.

"Welcome to the training arena." Thor raises his arms wide, taking in the whole of the stone circle.

"Whoa..." I spin slowly. Targets painted on the walls or hanging from posts surround us and dummies with red dots marking fatal spots stand in clusters. A hill leads down and away to my right. Through the large opening between the corners of the castle and the armory, I can see the forest and the distant villages.

Thor hands me one of the swords and tells me where to stand. "Now, there are four basic stances, but once you begin to learn this fighting style more, you will learn that each stance can be altered at any moment depending on the situation." He spent the next several minutes describing each stance, demonstrating them for me and telling me why they are used. Eventually, after about an hour, I finally got to do things. Every few minutes he would tell me what I'm doing wrong or how to perfect my stance.

After two hours, I have been told how much my concentration and my defensive stance sucks. Thor didn't literally say: "Freya, you suck," but I got the idea due to the amount of times I heard him sigh, groan and laugh at me.

...

...

"Remember," Thor says for the sixty-eighth time, "forehead, across, across—"

I roll my eyes.

"Forehead, across, across, waist, behind, thrust, guard. Yeah, I got it." I raise the sword up so that the flat part of the blade is facing my forehead, bringing my hands that are wrapped around the hilt near my right ear and bend my elbow. I crouch slightly, the way he showed me. Across, across. I lower the sword and hold it parallel to my body. Then I slash the sword in front of me twice and I swing it out, like I'm pushing an invisible sword out of the way. I lower my hands to the right of my waist, the tip sticking out away from my body, pull back and stab forward, immediately swinging the sword so that it rests diagonally about a foot in front of my chest, flat part always facing my body (so the enemy doesn't slam the edge into you, according to Thor).

"Good." He claps twice then crosses his arms. "Now reverse, then we shall do it together. I will be the attacker."

I restart with a groan. This time I start from the other side so that instead of the hilt starting to my right, it begins to my left and so on and so forth.

"Perfect," he says once I've finished the second set. "I believe it is time for you to practice with a partner." He picks up the other sword and stands across from me.

"I promise to go easy on you," I say, grinning.

"And I you." Thor bows slightly and I curtsy, rousing a chuckle from my opponent. "Get in your stance, pupil!" he bellows a moment later, pointing at me with the wooden sword, and trying to keep from laughing.

"Oops, right! Okay, sorry." I spread my feet apart and crouch a little.

"Forehead!" Thor chops down and I block it. "Across, across!" He swings quickly and I block one, but duck as the other swing comes hurtling towards my head. I bounce up, block at the waist, then thrust towards him. He bounds back, grinning. "Very good, Freya, very good indeed." He thwacks my sword like some sort of high five. "Again!"

We do this over and over until it's almost second nature. He adds in little tricks that I fumble to block, but block nonetheless.

"So"—across, across—"about your brother." I thrust forward.

"What about him?"

"I know we've talked about this since I went to see him, but"—waist!—"I don't know what to do. Should I go talk to him again? He hasn't summoned me to his cell yet. I don't want to go back and act desperate."

Thor smiles and nods as he tries to smack my side. I knock his sword away, one, two, across, across, without thinking about it.

"And even if I do go back to talk, he won't listen. I've only met him once and he already hates me."

Thor let's out a short laugh. "Do not take it personally, there are few my brother tolerates."

"Who does he tolerate?"

He's quiet for a moment, freezing mid-swing. "Our mother."

"Frigga?"

Thor nods.

"Thor, can I ask you something?" I ask, lowering my sword.

He does the same. "By all means."

"How did Loki become what he is now?"

"That will be a long explanation."

"I don't know how long I'm gonna be here for, so I've got enough time to hear it," I say.

Thor presses his lips into a thin line. "You will not understand."

"I've come across a lot in the last week and a half that I haven't understood. Lay it on me."

He sighs, nods, then motions for me to follow him. "Come, sit." We walk over to the edge of the hill and sit down. Thor pulls up some blades of grass and begins to absentmindedly tie them together. "When Loki was indeed mischievous, always pulling pranks, telling jokes but the things he did were no more than innocent jests. It was around the time he found out he was adopted that his antics began to turn darker."

"He was adopted?" I ask.

"Yes. My brother was taken from the Frost Giants by my father when he was only an infant. Odin did not wish to tell him; he did not want Loki to feel different. But, due to his reluctance, Loki found out on his own. When he learned his heritage, my brother became increasingly power hungry. He tried to prove himself by destroying Jotunheim, the realm of the Frost Giants. He wanted to show my father he was truly worthy of the throne, just as I was, but he failed to do so just as he failed to destroy Jotunheim. That was the same day he fell off the Bridge and for a year the whole of Asgard presumed him dead. That was until he presented himself in your New City of York. When he fell, he found his way to the Chitauris and Thanos. We could only get so much out of my brother before he refused to speak, but what we have concluded is that Thanos promised Loki a Chitauri army to take over Earth if Loki brought him the Tesseract."

I frown into the distance for a second, mulling over what Thor had just said. "Was Loki under Thanos' control?"

"I do not know. I would like to say yes. But I believe it was the lust for power that drove him to create that level of devastation. He would do anything for a throne, not excluding obliterating an entire city."

"Was Loki under the Tesseract's control? Wait, what is a Tesseract?"

Thor furrows his brow, thinking. "It is one of six Infinity Stones. And no, it does not have the power to control a being. At least not that I know of. The only stone I know of that has the power to be absorbed by a person is the Aether."

"Oh," I say pretending to know what he's talking about.

We're both quiet for a moment, then I ask, "When I first met you, you said that you and Frigga both believed that Loki could change for the better, right?" I ask.

Thor nods.

"Do you still believe that?"

He stares out over the forest, looking at the far away villages. "I do not know how I feel about my brother. In the past he has occasionally done things that have surprised me, made me think that there is still something...good deep within him. Maybe he will surprise me again. Maybe not."

...

...

Loki paces and watches the other prisoners while away the long days in their dank cells. He should not be here. He does not belong in a dungeon, he belongs on a throne. He deserves a throne. Loki clenches his fist. If his mission on Midgard had not failed, he would have that realm at his fingertips, the people would be at his disposal. But that plan had been interrupted and instead of having a whole planet, all he had was a very small, very boxlike room to call his own. If it hadn't been for Thor and the Avengers—Loki smirks at the name—he would be the king of that measly world, the world where that girl came from.

That girl, that irritating, foolish little girl. A smile plays across the god's lips as an idea begins to form.

Loki stops walking and stands facing the corridor. A guard finally passes and when he does, he stops to look at the man in green.

"What?" the guard asks.

"Summon the girl," says the God of Mischief and Lies. "Tell her I am ready to cooperate."


	11. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy the chapter as a present! Also, I figured out how to put in italics so I'll go through all the chapters tomorrow and fix the rest of the chapters.  
_

Chapter 10

The canopy over my bed is made of long strips of gold and silver woven together. There are exactly one hundred and ninety-eight little square gaps between the pieces of metal and twenty-seven parts of the squares around its edges. The bed posts that attach to the canopy have markings that make the golden surfaces look like wood with veins of purple and blue running through them. It's all very intricate and precise and— I shake my head and sit up. I've been staring at the ceiling for the last hour and a half and I can feel the brain-to-mush process already starting. I did take a nap for sixty of those ninety minutes but I can still feel my sanity slowly dissolving into that woven canopy thing.

There's a knock and I bounce up and over to swing the door open. I open my mouth, ready to start talking to Lifa, but shut it abruptly when I see Jolgier standing stiffly and awkwardly before me.

"Hello, Lady Freya," he starts. "The prisoner, er, _Loki_ has requests your presence at his cell and wishes to see you immediately."

_Took him long enough._ "Okay, thanks Jolgier. I'll be down shortly." He gives me a curt nod then turns and walks away. I shut the door and face my room.

The silver disk that Odin gave me sits on my bedside table next to my phone and sketch pad. I walk over and pick it up, running my thumb over the smooth surface, thinking. What made Loki finally decide that he would help us? Was it something I said? No, it couldn't have been something I said; he strangled me because of what I said. I shiver at the memory of his hands around my throat and try to assure myself it won't happen again. But how can I be sure? I have to somehow get this metal disk on his skin without him hurting me. Let's hope he's decided to be cooperative when he cooperates.

Usually that'd be a given, but he's Loki and nothing with him is a given.

There's another knock on my door and this time it is Lifa standing in front of me. I smile at her and she returns it, clutching the book she's holding tighter against her.

"Freya, hello! I was wondering if you needed me to get anything for your evening bath. I know it is not even after noontime but I was just thinking that I could get everything ready now." She smiles wider. "Unless you do not want me to, in which case I am sorry to bother you."

"No, no. That's alright. I already have clean towels from yesterday, but thanks." I walk to my bed, only to turn back when I realize she isn't following me inside. "You can come in, if you want."

She walks in and closes the door then comes to perch on the edge of my bed. I hold the silver disk between my thumb and forefinger. She sets her book down beside her and looks at me, blue eyes curious.

"I'm wondering something too," I say, flipping the disk like a quarter. I rest against my pillows.

"What ever you need, I will be happy to help, m'lady," she says, smiling.

"Loki has called me back to his cell to talk about his release and I was going to go down to talk to him, but last time he strangled me and—"

"Oh my gods!" Her eyes grow wide and she bolts up. "You still seek his help even though he did that to you?"

"Yes." I catch the disk before it rolls under my bed. "I just really want to tell people on earth I'm not dead." I pocket the disk and flop down onto the mattress again.

"Yes, I suppose I see why you wish to. Though, if it requires you harming yourself, I would advise against it," Lifa says, brows pulling together.

"Malekith has already poked and injected me with more needles than possibly countable. Compared to that, Loki's a breeze. I'd take a cold breeze over searing hot poison any day."

Lifa twirls the end of her braid slightly, then asks, "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

"Oh, right! I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to his cell," I say. "For moral support, I don't really want him strangling me again."

"Freya, are...are you positive you want his help? He isn't called the God of Mischief and Lies for nothing," she says.

"I know. I know, but I want to get out. I want to get out and I need his help, he's my ticket out of this place." I lie down and look back up at the canopy I've memorized.

"Yes, and I _know_ that, but even if he does open the portal, Malekith will be able to find you again. You wont be safe on Midgard," she says. "We can keep you safe _here_ but our protections cannot reach anywhere out of Asgard. The Dark Elves will find you once you return home and the Allfather will be unable to help when they do."

I close my eyes and rub them, feeling too tired to deal with Loki's sarcasm and my being trapped in a galaxy far, far away. I haven't allowed myself to think about any flaws in my plan, but I know what she says is true and at some point I'm going to need to accept that.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I mutter.

Lifa watches me as she continues to fumble nervously with the end of her braid. A moment later she nods. "I will accompany you to his cell then. He will be unable to strangle you if I am there!" She flashes me a smile.

I laugh a little and sit up. "Thank you, Lifa."

...

...

Hagen opens the door to the dungeons and Lifa and I enter.

"What do you think he's going to say?" Lifa asks. She's been twirling the end of her braid since we left my room and now she's beginning to scrunch it in her fist.

"I don't know, we'll see in just a sec—"

"Took you long enough," Loki murmurs. He flips the page of his book and reads it before looking up at us. The book slaps closed and he stands. "I was beginning to wonder if that oaf had neglected to pass on my message, or if you simply didn't care." He trails his slender fingers over the cover of the book with such care and tenderness that hesitate a moment before answering.

"He _finally_ got it to me after you finished sulking in your cage," I say, "so don't you worry your little head about it."

Loki sets the book on the table and steps closer. He bends down to look me in the eye, a humorless smile forming on his lips. "Those are some brave words coming from such fragile little girl. Come inside and tell me more. Then we will see how strong you truly are."

I take a small step back and Loki bares his teeth.

I cross my arms, then walk as close as I can get without singeing my hair on the force field. I stare him in the eye, and say, "I would love to but I don't feel like having the life squeezed out of me again."

"No, of course you don't." He straightens. "Taking your measly life would bring me great pleasure but I need you for other things."

I pull the metal disk out of my pocket. I see the god's face pale and this time I smile.

"If you wanna get out, you gotta put this on. That was under the Terms and Conditions and I am making sure to read every word," I say.

He frowns at me. "I am assuming that piece of metal prohibits me from using my magic?"

"Your assumption would be correct." I start toward the stairs. "The Allfather gave it to me to use so you wouldn't go all berserk once free from your cell."

"Very well. Come put it on me. I will not 'go all berserk' towards you."

A half concealed laugh escapes as I start towards the stairs.

"Freya!" Lifa whispers. "Remember what I said before. He isn't the God of Mischief and Lies for nothing."

"I know, I'll be fine," I say, then I grin. "He promised to not go berserk on me; I'm sure I can handle this jerk."

Loki snorts, and I look at him, genuinely surprised he can make that sound.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing, just don't make me regret getting you out."

"If that is truly what you are doing, please make haste."

"Since you said please." I open the cell and walk in, Lifa following close behind. She stands and watches us, spinning her braid at an alarmingly fast rate.

I hold up the disk. "No funny business, right?"

"Of course not," he purrs. "I never take part in funny business."

I roll my eyes and wait for Loki to roll up his sleeve. He holds out his arm, palm up, and taps the skin a few inches from his hand. I place the metal disk against his skin and hold his arm steady so I can touch the sensor. My thumb brushes his wrist a little and I flick my eyes up to his. He watches me curiously for a moment before looking away.

There's a soft click and Loki hisses, ripping his arm away from me and breaking up the weird bonding moment. He turns and walks away, clenching his hand repeatedly and wiggling his fingers. He glares at me over his shoulder, green eyes blazing.

"Well?" I ask. "You ready?"

He stares at the metal disk, then pulls down his sleeve and turns towards me. "Yes." Loki starts towards the exit but stops when he is next to me.

"Child," he murmurs and steps closer to me. "What Thor told you only touches the surface of the monster that I am."

"What?" I ask.

Loki's eyes are wild, two small jungles hiding poisonous flowers behind mossy tree trunks. He's grinning a lopsided and crazed grin and leans to whisper in my ear. "I can assure you that you will not like what you come to learn. My past is far darker than the small glimpse you have had into it." The odd look slowly turns into an evil smile, then it's gone, replaced by his usual cool, somewhat collected, demeanor.

He walks down the stairs, leaving me wondering how on earth he knew I had talked to Thor. I wasn't thinking about the conversation, at least I don't think I was. Somehow he pulled it up out of my subconscious, except how could he? He doesn't have his magic.

"The impulse to lock you both in is becoming overwhelming," Loki calls from outside the cell.

Lifa and I rush into the corridor to where Loki stands smirking. A moment later he begins to walk down the hall and I jog after him. I walk briskly, trying to match my pace with his long strides.

"What?" he asks.

"What _what?_" I counter.

"It is obvious you want something. What is it?"

"How did you know I talked to Thor? Your magic is turned off."

He smiles, shaking his head, and looks at me with his overused, slightly handsome—NO! I meant annoying—with his _annoying_ smirk plastered on his face.

"I need no magic to tell when someone looks at me differently. I did not know you went to my brother, I merely assumed. Thank you for proving me correct."

I stare at him. "Seriously?"

He flashes me a genuine smile and asks, "What did he tell you?"

"I'm not going to answer that. What do you mean I looked at you differently?" I say.

"Your face," Loki says, "bore a peculiar expression."

"It was me hoping you wouldn't strangle me again."

"No, it was more than that." He bends down a little bit and takes me by my shoulders, studying my face. "Curiosity is a look that does little to suit you, my dear," he whispers.

I stare at him for a moment, then back away from him. He does nothing to stop me so I cross my arms.

I try to act collected and not as awkward as I feel. "Wow, thanks," I say. "And I'm truly sorry that I look ugly when I'm curious, but we can talk features later. The Allfather needs to see you. Now."

Loki sighs and rubs at the disk attached to his skin. "Very well. Show me to Odin."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Lifa and I get to the Throne Room door and turn to wait for Loki as he takes his leisurely time walking towards us. After a good thirty seconds he finally catches up and pushes past us into the large room. Instantly, his mood changes and he turns to look at me, mischief playing behind his green eyes.

"Must I really wait after you so eagerly pulled me here?" he asks cooly.

I let out a short laugh and come to a stop next to him. "This is the way you're gonna play it, huh?" I say lowly.

He grins briefly before turning to face his father who stands at the bottom of the large stair case. Odin walks towards us, flanked by Frigga. Thor, Lady Sif and Fandrall stand to our right. I glance at Thor who gives me a reassuring nod. Fandrall nods politely at me, no hint of seduction anywhere, thank the gods. He must have finally realized his creepy attempts at flirtation were getting nowhere.

"Thank you for bringing him, Lady Freya," Odin says.

I raise an eyebrow. He's never used 'lady' when referring to me before; something's going on.

"You're welcome," I say. I walk so that I'm in front of Loki before continuing. "It took him some time, but I think my words finally won him over."

Loki scoffs. "Hardly."

I glare at him over my shoulder then turn back to Odin and Frigga. "Do you need me for anything else?"

"Yes. But first I must inform you," he looks at Loki, "of the terms of your release."

Loki's fists clench but he doesn't say anything.

"First and foremost," the Allfather begins, "you are only being let out on the assumption that you and your magic both have the capabilities to reopen the Bifrost. If and when the Bifrost is opened, we will approach the subject of what to do with you again, but until then, Freya will be your guardian. You must always be in her company save for hygienic purposes and when you are asleep. When it is time for you to retire, I am giving Freya a key to—"

"A key?" Loki snarls. "You say you give me freedom but still you give my guardian a key? This girl should not be my guardian, she does not need a key. I do not need a key!"

"You know why I am doing this, Loki," Odin says, unperturbed. "It is for your own protection as well as the protection of those around you."

"My own protection? From whom?"

"Yourself."

"I do not need protection from myself, you old fool!" Loki hisses.

"Do you not? Then perhaps protection from those not so forgiving as this girl. Honestly, I am surprised Freya fought for your freedom after what you did to her city. I would have thought that on seeing you, any mortal would have run, fearing the destruction that you caused and that you could cause again."

I glance between them, biting my lower lip nervously. Loki's jaw is clenched and every muscle in his entire body is tense and quivering. His normally emerald green eyes have darkened, becoming the color of a forest in a storm, the color of a forest on fire. There's a flash of red and Loki yells, launching himself at Odin.

Without really knowing what I'm doing, I grab the god's arm and swing myself in between him and Odin. Loki's eyes briefly flick to me but a moment later, he is staring his father dead in the eye. He leans forward and I press my hand that isn't gripping his arm against his chest to keep him away from me and away from Odin. He doesn't look all there, something in him has snapped in these few moments with his father and I'm afraid of what he might do.

But all he does is speak. And when he does it is so quiet that if I weren't sandwiched directly between them, Odin would be the only one to hear it. "I should have let it happen."

I turn as much as I can between the two men and look at Odin who stands behind me. His whole face would be emotionless if it weren't for the small flicker of surprise at his son's words. A flash of triumph flickers across Loki's face and a moment later he takes a step back. I let go of his leather jacket that I don't remember wrapping my hand around. He inhales sharply and rips his arm out of my other hand. Then he turns, walking a few steps away from us, his shoulders rising and falling with angry breaths.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly through puffed cheeks, unsure of what I just witnessed. Whatever it was, though, was personal and both of them new exactly what the other was talking about. I cross my arms and look at the Allfather. Odin nods at me but his eyes stay fixed on Loki. I walk over to where Loki stands and stop next to him (staying a good three feet away, but still next to him).

Odin Allfather clears his throat and Loki faces him.

"To continue, henceforth both of you will be expected to attend council meetings involving the Bifrost, it's well being and what we are going to do with you." He looks at me when he says this.

"Me? What about me?"

"We have been talking about—"

"Wait a minute! There have been meeting about me and no one's told me?" I shoot a pointed look at Thor who, at this moment, happens to be engaged in a very urgent conversation with Sif.

"At the time, we did not think it necessary," Odin says.

"We? You mean you talked to people and you all thought it would be okay to not include me in meetings about me?!"

"I made the final decision—"

"Yeah, obviously. You are the Allfather after all," I mutter.

"Do not interrupt me. I have been far too lenient so it would do you good to quiet your obnoxious habit of blurting out whatever comes to mind!" Odin's yell echos off the walls around us and I bite my lip, ignoring Loki's chuckle.

"As I was saying, I made the final decision to not tell you about the meetings because I knew that you would soon be attending them. Although I did not foresee Loki's release, he is your responsibility and consequently will be attending them as well."

I nod. No interrupting, don't even speak until you get out of here.

But then you'll be alone with Loki, part of me whispers. Alone. With Loki. After that outburst and the sense that he wanted to kill something.

Greeeeeat.

"The first meeting will be held in two days time. I am assuming this will give you both time to get to know each other enough to get along and also figure out what you will say and what you will do."

"What do you mean?" Loki asks.

"What I mean is that you, Loki, must control yourself. We will need to find a way for you to only use some of your magic to open the portal because I do not wish to remove the disk fully from your skin." Odin turns to me. "And you must learn to hold your tongue when it is not your turn to speak."

I roll my eyes but nod. "Fine."

"Good. Lady Sif shall send for you when it is time for the meeting, but until then you are free to do what you wish. Do not get in trouble."

"Yup. Where's the key?" I ask.

Odin eyes me skeptically. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small gold key attached to a silver chain. I walk forward and he hands it to me. Slipping it over my head, I cross my arms.

"I'm not gonna lose it," I say in response to his skepticism.

"Try not to."

"Yes, sir." I curtsy as sarcastically as I can then turn. "Come along, Loki. We have to bond for the next two days."

He follows me out and Lifa follows him. We walk down the hall in silence. I glance at Loki, surprised at how easily it was to get him out of there so quickly. A minute more of silence passes and just as I am about to say something, I am slammed against the wall and Loki is in my face, his forearm pressed against my throat.

"Do not even think about using that key," he hisses.

"And don't you even think," I growl, "that you can just threaten me and I will do whatever you say."

"You seem to forget, child, that even without my magic I still have the capability to snap your pretty little neck." He leans in so that his eyes are level with mine. "And to do that would bring me much pleasure."

"Would it?" I whisper.

"It would."

"Then go ahead."

He and Lifa blink at me, and both say, "What?"

I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. "Go ahead, do it. If you do, you'll go right back into your cell. Everyone will know that you did it and there will be no getting out. Ever. So go ahead, Loki. Snap my pretty little neck." I stare him in the eyes, daring him to do it.

Loki wraps his hand around my neck and my stomach drops. He's actually going to do it. I didn't think he really would. Gods, I really have to learn to shut up!

I swallow the ball of nerves forming in throat. "Well?" I ask.

He begins to squeeze, but then he lets go.

"I will not kill you," he says quietly.

The statement and the way it is said catches me off guard and I don't say anything. Loki purses his lips at me and Lifa and I watch as he sighs, turns and continues on down the hall.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"So Loki," I start for the fifth time. He doesn't glare at me like he has the last four times so I continue. "What's your favorite color?"

When I ask this, Loki looks at me with disdain in his green eyes.

"Oh, green. Obviously." I shift my position in the chair next to the fire and pull the turquoise blanket closer around my shoulders. It got cold last night and when I woke up I expected there to be snow on the ground. Then I remembered this is Asgard and that the cold would go away as quickly as it came, but then, surprisingly, it didn't (proving I know absolutely nothing about Asgard and its weather patterns). It still didn't snow, but if I was on Earth it'd at least be sleet or that weird half-rain-half-snow stuff. Or are those the same thing?

My room had been freezing even with a fire roaring in the hearth, so Loki, Lifa and I had made our way to a small cozy tea room. Frigga had been here originally, but after she said good morning and talked to her son quietly for a while, she went away to attend to some queenly duties. An hour after the Allmother left, Lifa was called to help her mother and more cooks in the kitchen, so she left us reading the small collection of books Frigga had brought over.

Without looking up from his book, Loki says, "If this is what you consider bonding then I wish to not partake."

"Loki, come on! We're apparently supposed to, so why not get it over with?"

"Fine." He slaps his book shut and stares at me, unblinking. "My favorite color is serpent's venom, my favorite sound was the destruction of your precious city, and I strongly dislike you. May I return to my book now?"

"I could've guessed all of that," I say. I put my book on the wooden coffee table that sits between the two of us and cross my arms.

"Oh really?" he asks, leaning back in his seat.

I nod. "I'm assuming serpent's venom is green. You look like the kind of guy who enjoys the screams of innocent mortals as they flee from you in terror. And I strongly dislike you too."

"Wonderful, you are most perceptive indeed. Now will you permit me to return to my book, guardian?"

"No. Now it's my turn."

Loki groans and drops his book on the sofa next to him. He rubs his eyes with the tips of his slender fingers and says, "Even Hell would be better than this punishment."

"Stop whining! You sound like a four year old with a very large vocabulary."

"If I were but four years of age, I would still be an infant and unable to speak," he mutters.

I ignore him. "My favorite color is the color of the clouds when the sun's setting and they get tinted with orange and purple and pink. My favorite smell is vanilla...or maybe mint, I don't know. My favorite sound is...ummm..."

"Your own voice, perhaps?" Loki asks, arching an eyebrow.

"No, but if I had to choose a favorite voice it would certainly not be yours."

Loki mocks offence. "Oh that hurts, that truly does."

I smirk, then go on, "My favorite sound would be wind in the trees and water flowing over rocks in a creek. And I still don't like you, but I understand your feelings toward your dad."

Loki stares at me. "You what?" he asks.

"I understand your feelings toward your dad," I repeat.

"How could you possibly understand all that he's done?"

"That's not what I said."

"Then do clarify what you mean."

"I mean that I understand the betrayal you feel, and I know what it feels like to be hurt by someone you loved."

"No, you don't." I watch Loki's hand push off the sofa as he stands and suddenly it isn't his hand and it's coming toward my face. The man in my memory yells at me. All I can do is stare at him wondering what the hell I ever did to make him hate me so much and then his hand comes in contact with my cheek. My mother yells at him and I am crouching on the floor, holding a hand to my stinging skin, my head whirling.

"My father has done things that you can't even imagine!" Loki continues, breaking me away from my memories.

I stand and walk around the table to face him as best I can even though I'm at least six inches shorter. "Yeah? Well so has mine."

"I doubt it."

"Do you? You doubt it? You seem oh-so-sure you know everything about me. Well, Loki, you don't!"

"Yes, I do," he says. A smile plays across his lips as he speaks and I push down the urge to slap it off.

I scoff and cross my arms. "Then do enlighten me, Loki. Who am I?"

He leans down to stare me in the eye. "You are a spoiled little girl who grew up having all she ever wanted handed to her on a silver plate. You have learned that whatever you say has no consequences and with that being true, you say all that comes to mind. You haven't known pain until Malekith stole you from your planet and deposited you here, broken and confused. You act so strong, so confident, but really you are nothing more than a scared little girl who wants to run home to her mother!"

I swallow hard and force my face to stay placid. Loki stares at me, breathing hard, his eyes flicking to look in both of mine as he waits for my answer. A minute passes of us having an undeclared staring contest; then I force out a laugh.

"What is so amusing?"

"Ab-so-lute-ly nothing, but you are hilariously wrong," I say loudly, pushing my lips into a smile.

"Am I?" he growls.

"Yes, you are so wrong it is funny!" I laugh again, but this time it comes out as a strangled cry and I clamp my mouth shut.

Loki's eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything about it. "Then do enlighten me, my pet. What did you mean when you said you understood my pain?"

I smile again and somehow this time it's real, or semi at least. "Are we playing the question game, then?"

"You are infuriating," Loki mutters and turns to pick up his book. He begins to walk towards the door and this action of sudden passiveness pisses me off even more.

"What made you such an asshole?" I yell.

He pauses mid stride and without turning, asks, "What?"

"What. Made. You. Such. An. Asshole?" I repeat.

Loki spins and as he does, he throws his book. It crashes against the wall and slides to the floor, a page fluttering a few feet away. His narrowed eyes are blood red and I take a step back, realizing suddenly that this could get really dangerous, really fast. The feeling of deja vu settles over me and my words from yesterday appear in my brain: Gods, I really have to learn to shut up!

He walks toward me slowly and, like that day in the dungeon, he reminds me of a cat about to pounce. He doesn't begin speaking until he's passed the sofa and when he does, his voice is quiet and quavering on the edge of explosion. "My father neglected me; he refused to acknowledge my presence as he proudly watched Thor become the heir to the throne. After taking me from Jotunheim, Odin never gave me a second glance. I was no more than a stranger living among people who lied and called me family, a relic they only wished was put away in safe keeping. None of them loved me then, certainly none of them love me now, and I do not care. I will happily watch them all burn as I did your city."

"What about your mom?"

Loki's eyes widen for a split second.

"What about her?" he spits.

"You love her."

"No, I d—"

"Yes, you do. I can tell. And she loves you too, Loki. Even if you're right and Odin doesn't, she definitely loves you," I say.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand clench and when I look at it, his fist is blue and weird little markings rise off the back of it.

I walk up to him. If he wants to, he could easily strangle and kill me, but something in me senses he won't, at least not right now. I hope I'm right.

"And if there is only one stupid thing I say that you give a damn to remember, let it be this," I wrap my hand around a fold in his leather jacket and pull him down to look me in the eye, "having at least one person who's loved you your entire life is better than none." Something warm dances in my fingertips and I stare at my hand holding his jacket. "Trust me," I whisper, "I should know."

I look back at his eyes and see that they have returned to green. He watches me carefully, his face completely lacking emotion, then suddenly he grabs my hand and pulls it away from him. He holds it in both his hands (which are both normally colored) and his thumbs trace over my palm almost as if he's searching for something.

"What did you do?" he murmurs.

"What?" I ask, startled at his sudden mood change. "What do you mean?"

Loki shakes his head slightly.

"What? Loki, why are you touching my hand? Let go!"

"That is very strange." He frowns.

"What's very strange?" I ask.

He doesn't answer.

"Okay, that's it. Let me go." I try to pull my hand away but Loki just squeezes it harder and continues to stare at it.

"Let me go! If you aren't going to tell me what you're doing, let me go."

"What did you do?" he asks again.

"What do you mean what did I do? Just let me go!" I try to pull away from him again, but Loki doesn't stop staring at my hand. "Let go! Just let me go! Loki, just LET ME—" I'm cut off by a loud ZAP and flash of light that makes Loki stumble back and fall onto the sofa.

He stares at me and says something, but now I'm too busy staring at my hand. It looks normal, but it caused whatever whatever just happened. What did Malekith do to me?

"How did you do that?"

"I didn't. I didn't do anything," I say firmly, finally meeting his gaze.

"No, no. You must have done something."

"No! I swear! I thought that was you," I say. My breathing has risen to a pant and I can feel my heart hammering away in my ears.

What did Malekith do? Is it that liquid pain he put in me? Did he curse me? What did he do? Am I dying or something?

"What did he do?" I ask.

"To whom are you referring?"

"Malekith. What did he do? Am I cursed or something? Is it what he put in me?"

"He could have poisoned you," Loki says calmly. His eyes flash but this time it's with amusement, not with a sudden flood of red.

"What?!" I cry. "Seriously? You think he actually—"

"Or," he says, cutting me off, "he could have done something much worse but also much more interesting."

"No! Nonononono." I sit down and stare at my hand a moment before looking at Loki. "What do you mean?" I demand. "What does 'more interesting' mean? What is worse than poison?" All Loki does is smirk. Asshole.

I glare at him as I try to think through the one thought swirling in my mind: What would be worse than being poisoned? I have to calm down to think clearly. I've been half calm this entire afternoon while sitting with a man who could easily kill me with his bare hands, so, compared to that, this shouldn't make me freak out so much. I mean, it was probably just major static electricity or something. Right? RIGHT?!

We sit in silence, Loki pretending to read but really watching me and my reactions, and me staring at the sofa table but not actually seeing it as I rub my weird hand. I take deep breath after deep breath, letting each one out slowly and steadily and shakily.

Okay, I think, this is okay. Nothing like this has happened before; nothing weird like this has happened before. It's all just a coincidence. Only a coincidence. Then I freeze.

But this has happened before; up in the tower with Thor on one of my first days here. Somehow I had transported myself onto the railing and Thor had to catch me before I plummeted off the tower.

"Shit," I whisper.

"What?" Loki asks. He puts down his book and watches me intently. He knew I was thinking through everything, he saw the gears turning and the lightbulb about to flicker on. Even without his magic he seems to have a keen sense of when something involving other people will interest him.

"Shit!" I say again, this time louder.

"What have you learned?"

"I, um." I look at him.

"Well?"

"On one of my first days here, when Thor was giving me a tour, we went up into this tower and I was looking out over Asgard and stuff. Just looking out over everything from so far up made me think how cool it'd be to be a bird and fly. So I leaned against the railing and put out my arms like I've done at the tops of light houses down on Earth and I just held out my arms, like—" I raise my arms out to either side and wave them up and down a little, demonstrating my grade-A flying technique. Loki arches an eyebrow and looks extremely critical. "I just—I wanted to...um."

"You wanted to what?"

"I wanted to fly," I say quietly. Loki nods but doesn't say anything. My cheeks heat up and I press my hands against them, trying to cover the stupid blush.

"Did you feel anything odd when that occurred?"

"Yeah, I felt this weird tingly burning sensation. It felt like what happened when Malekith put the needles and stuff in me."

Loki nods again. "Did you feel that same sensation just now?"

I give a small nod.

A grin briefly plays across the god's lips, and he places his chin on his clasped hands. "Curious," he murmurs. "That is very curious indeed."


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Curious he says. Curious! Curious my ass. Curious is when it's pouring rain and there's no sun but still a rainbow. Curious is when there's no wind, but the leaves still tumble across the ground. Curious is when the wand that chose Harry Potter had the same core as the one that chose Voldemort! That is curious!

Curious is not when some freaky elf guy barges into Starbucks, kidnaps you then precedes to inject you with various liquids that burn and sting your insides. That is not curious, that is scary and hurts like hell!

But of course Loki would think that's 'curious.' Of course he would.

I groan and roll over in my bed. It's late but outside, the giant planet that's closest to Asgard shines so brightly, it's almost like day time.

Once everything in the tea room had happened, and I had calmed down some, Loki and I met up with Thor and went to dinner. After I said good night to Loki (to which I got no response and just a door slammed in my face), I locked him in for the night. Then I changed into my pajamas and got into bed, assuming I'd be able to fall asleep instantly because I was so tired. Instead, I lay awake into the wee hours of the night, thinking of ways to get to Loki and somehow bond with him.

I had tried today, thinking that maybe if I told him about the thing we have in common, he'd open up a little. But he got pissed off, then I got pissed off, then I made my stupid 'question game' comment and my hand decided to zap him. My hand zapped him. Why did my hand zap him? What's going on with me? How did— NO! I'm on the topic of Loki right now.

Although, before my comment, he had asked me to explain what I had said about me understanding him and maybe if I bring that up again he'll listen. I just can't let him grab the conversation and run. There needs to be some sort of understanding between us if I'm going to be here any longer than the day after tomorrow.

I close my eyes, deciding that tomorrow I will find a time to talk. And when I do he will listen.

...

I wake up with faint remnants of a dream swirling in my head, involving a floating hand and two men who were probably Loki and Odin. The three followed me around the whole time and one man repeated, "Curious, very curious!" over and over while the other yelled at me about different forms of chemical bonds. I remember yelling back, "No! I haven't taken Chemistry in over two years! Please leave me alone!"

My dream fades away, leaving nothing but a small fear of and confusion over hydrogen, and I am left thinking about my inevitable conversation with Loki. He seems to speak his mind the most when not directly asked, so maybe he'll be the one to bring it up.

Probably not, but whatever.

I yawn, then swing my feet over the side of my bed. Instantly, a shiver runs down my spine as my toes touch bare floor. I stand and tip toe quickly to the closest rug then to my closet door and swing it open. Inside, I pull out a warm-looking green tunic and some pants. Once I'm changed, I pull on some boots and walk back out.

Stretching, I make my way over to one of the curtains and pull it aside. When I do, I'm greeted with air that is thick with white puffy snowflakes. My mouth falls open and I swing the glass door wide so I can hurry out onto the balcony already covered in an inch of fresh snow. I look up at the sky, closing my eyes and smiling as the soft crystals fall against my face.

I open my eyes and face the railing to look out over the garden. The flowers and trees are all covered, but somehow the frost hasn't killed anything; the petals and leaves are all the same color as they were when Lifa and I first explored them. I turn my head slowly from side to side, taking in Asgard dressed in white. Everything that I can see from my small balcony is dusted in snow and looks like something from a movie.

If I do get a chance to talk to Loki, it could very well be while we're making a snowman.

I lean down and pack some snow into a ball. I straighten, then pull back and chuck it as far into the trees as I can (which, I have to admit, isn't that far). It flies through the air, then falls behind the foliage. A split second later there's the sound of it hitting something and someone lets out a surprised cry. The tree tops swish and move a little, and I hear the sound of two people walking toward me. I make another snowball and wait, prepared to protect myself with the only weapon I have.

When the people are just outside of my sight, they start talking. I grin as I hear Frigga shushing Thor's loud whisper.

"Take up arms, mother," Thor says, still very loudly. Frigga laughs.

"Who goes there!" I call.

Thor walks out of the trees, hands positioned in a passive, but not surrendering, manner.

"Tis I!" he calls back. "Now if you would so kindly drop your weapon, we will not have to fight."

I roll the snowball in my cold hands, contemplating whether I should drop it and not risk an onslaught of icy spheres of snow. Thor can definitely throw farther and harder than I can so it'll probably hurt. But against my better judgement, I decide not to surrender and raise the snowball into a throwing position.

"You drop your weapons and I will not start this fight," I say, smiling.

Thor grins. "Then now will be the time of war." He pulls his arm back and throws his snowball.

I watch as it hurtles through the air, then dodge right before it hits me in the chest. The snow smacks against the wall and my hair gets dusted. I duck down behind the railing, peering through the bars. Another ball sails directly over me and lands on the floor of the balcony. This one had come from Frigga.

"Hey!" I make more snowballs as quickly as I can. "Two against one!"

"Do you wish to forfeit?" Thor asks.

I pick up two more of my freshly made snowballs and stand up. "Never!" Then I start raining my white cannon balls down upon my adversaries.

Thor ducks back into the trees and I watch, open mouthed, as Frigga holds one hand above her head and creates a magical umbrella that my snowballs bounce harmlessly off of.

"Two against one and magic?" I say.

Frigga smiles then uses an enchantment to form a snowball and throw it at me. I try to doge it, but the magic ball follows me and hits me in the back.

I fall over and lay there for a moment. When I regain my breath, I rise to my knees and begin to make more snowballs. I stand back up and turn, ready to throw, only to see five snowballs hovering in the air and Thor holding six more.

Sighing, I smile and let the snowballs I am holding fall to the ground. I raise my hands and say, "Okay, you've bested me."

Frigga lets the snowballs drop and Thor drops his as well.

"You put up a valiant effort, Lady Freya." He bows.

I curtsy slightly in return.

Thor says something to the Allmother that I can't make out, then they hug. Frigga smiles up at me, nodding her head before turning to go.

"That was fun," I say, as Thor walks up the spiral staircase to where I stand leaning against the wall.

"I am glad you are not disappointed at our victory," he says.

"I would have won if your mom hadn't whipped out her magic."

"Would you have?" he asks, laughs. "I am not so sure."

"Oh, you're not, huh? Well then, guess what."

"What?"

"I am one of the best snowball-fighters on Midgard. I would have dusted you both with my awesome snowballing abilities."

"Then perhaps a rematch at some later hour? Possibly when we have even teams."

I hold out my hand and Thor grips it firmly. "To our next battle." We bob our clasped hands once.

"I shall prepare my troops," he says. He waits for me to walk into my room before closing the door.

"Even teams," I remind him.

"I shall have my mother and her magic on my side. You can have my brother and possibly his abilities if he acts accordingly."

"Rally the troops!" I cry, raising a fist and twirling as I speak. "We shall fight at dawn and it will be a battle all of the Nine Realms remember!"

Thor laughs. "That will be because I am the one who wins."

I turn to him. "Or," I walk up to him, "will it be because Loki and I completely and utterly destroy you?"

"We shall see, m'lady. But until then, let us make a truce."

"That we will," I say. "Oh! And speaking of your mom's magic, I didn't even realize she could do other things besides healing people. When she healed Loki in the dungeons, I guess I had assumed it was like an Asgardian mother sixth sense or something."

"She is the one who taught Loki everything he knows."

I open my mouth to say something, but all that comes out is 'oh.' It's only fitting that Loki took everything his mother taught him and turned it against hundreds of thousands of innocent, defenseless people.

"With magic comes great responsibility and sadly, my brother chose to use his power to control those weaker than he," Thor says, speaking my thoughts.

I nod, not knowing what to say.

He walks to the hearth and gets a small fire going.

"Have you eaten?" he asks.

"No."

"Neither have I. Shall we wake Loki and go to breakfast?"

"Sure," I say. Up until now, I haven't realized how hungry I actually am and at the mention of food, my mind starts to fantasize about everything I haven't been able to eat in the weeks I've been here. Pizza, bagels, cupcakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Pancakes. Gods, I could go for some pancakes right about now. Then an idea hits. "Thor," I start.

"Yes?" He looks up at me and, when he sees my smile, eyes me suspiciously.

"Have you ever had a pancake?"

"Er...no. Is it a cake but made in a pan?"

"Well...yes. But they are delicious and I really want one right now."

"Then let us go and make one," he says, standing.

I walk over to my nightstand to get the key and once it is hanging around my neck, the two of us walk out. We cross the hall to Loki's door and I knock. There's no response so Thor knocks and calls his name. Still there's no response. I unlock the door and open it enough to peak my head into the room.

When I hear no sound from inside, I walk farther in. A corner blocks my view into the room.

"I'll just be a minute," I whisper to Thor. He nods.

I walk inside as quietly as I can. "Loki?"

I get to the corner and peak around it. I see the bed and in it is Loki, sleeping on top of the covers, a book open half on the bed and half on his bare chest. His black, normally slicked-back hair hangs in messy waves.

"Loki, we're going to breakfast. Thor's waiting for us."

He shifts slightly, but doesn't wake up. I try to think of a way to wake him up without having to shake him. I really don't want our first encounter of the day to be him strangling me; that would not be a good way to start the morning.

Looking around, I see that, like my room, Loki's walls are lined with bookshelves. But, unlike my room, all the book shelves are completely full. I walk over to one shelf and pull a book out, deciding that maybe shuffling around will rouse him slowly and not make him quick to yell (or strangle). I look at the leather cover of the book I'm holding and on it, scrawled in fancy golden letters, are the words: Óendanleiki Steinninn, Yfirlit Sagan.

"And I still cannot speak Norse," I mutter, sliding the book back into it's place.

"What are you doing here, you stupid girl?" comes Loki's half sleepy voice from behind me.

I whirl around. He's propped up on one elbow and watches me with narrowed eyes.

"We're going to make breakfast. Thor's waiting and we're all gonna make pancakes," I say quickly, and turn. I begin heading for the door to leave but his voice stops me.

"What?"

I look at him. "You, me, Thor. Pancakes. Get dressed, we'll be waiting outside your room."

I walk out leaving Loki frowning at me. Thor closes the door when I'm in the hall again.

"Is he awake?"

"Yes. He caught me looking at his books," I say, smiling. "And I confused him with the words 'pancakes,' even though you seemed to understand it pretty quickly."

Thor smiles. "Yes, but when you told me, I had not just awoken."

"That is true."

A minute later, the door opens and Loki walks out in his usual getup, holding a book. His hair, I notice, is straightened and slicked back again.

"Good morning, brother," Thor says.

"Is it?" Loki asks.

"Yes, it is. There's snow," I say. "And hopefully pancakes."

"Snow is merely perspiration, like rain or hail. It is not something to be marveled at," he says. "I assume we are going to the kitchen, since the girl said something about cooking Midgardian delicacies."

"You do know I have a name, right?" Loki ignores me and focuses on Thor.

"Indeed, we are," Thor says. "Lead the way, Lady Freya."

...

"Okay," I say, looking at the bowls and spoons and Asgardian measuring cups that litter the counter in front of me.

"What are the ingredients?" Thor asks.

"I don't know exactly because, sadly, I have not memorized the recipe. So I'm just gonna wing it."

"Let me rephrase my question then: what do you think the ingredients are?"

"Flour, sugar, eggs, milk, baking powder, um..." I think. "I've made them so many ways. With my mom, we add a lot of cinnamon, but when I make it with my friend, Darcy, we put in vanilla. I guess we could put in both, if you have either of those things."

I feel a hand on my arm and look up. Thor has come around the counter and now is staring at me.

"Is everything ok—"

"Freya, did you just say Darcy?" he asks.

I frown at him. "...Yeah...why?"

He closes his other hand around my shoulder and holds me there, staring intently into my eyes. "What is her second name?"

"You mean her last name?"

"Yes, yes, that. What is it?"

"Lewis. Why?" Thor's eyes widen when I say this. "Are—are you okay?"

He grips my shoulders tighter and steps closer.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Jane Foster?"

I nod. "Y-yes..." I say slowly.

Loki looks up and in my peripheral vision, I see him roll his eyes.

"What's going on? I don't get it." I look at Loki then back to Thor, but neither of them says anything right away.

"Did you hear of my banishment to your realm?"

"Wait, you went to Earth?!"

"Yes, did you hear any of what transpired?"

"Lifa told me how you were banished to another realm, but I didn't realize it was Earth."

"I was sent there by my father—"

"Must we speak of this now?" Loki mutters.

"—And when I first arrived there, I believe I was in the territory of New Mexico."

"It's a state, but keep going."

"The state of New Mexico," Thor corrects. "Jane hit me with her vehicle and Darcy shocked me with some sort of electric rectangle."

"Jane hit you with her car?"

He nods like being hit with a car is no big deal. "Yes, twice."

"Oh my gods!" I bring a hand to my forehead.

"Did you speak to Jane before you came here? Do you know if she is well?"

"Oh my gods!" I repeat.

"What is the matter?"

"You're the one!" I poke his chest, but the action is awkward because he is still gripping my shoulders.

"The...one?" The god frowns at me. "What do you mean?"

"The guy! Darcy started telling me about how Jane met a guy who apparently had to move or something. She mentioned something about worm holes then Jane glared at her and she shut up," I say. "You're the guy, aren't you?"

"Yes, I suppose. Tell me, Lady Freya, is Jane well?"

"When I last talked to them, yes. She was doing fine. At least I think. It was after the stuff in New York and when I brought it up, she got awkward then said she had to go."

"Perhaps," Loki says, "it was because he never went to see her while he was on your measly planet."

"And why could I not, Loki? Answer me that!" Thor finally lets me go and turns to his brother angrily.

Loki rolls his eyes and sighs as he stands. "I am well aware of all that I have done seeing as no one here lets me forget. And with that being so, there is no need for me to listen. This conversation was boring me anyway." He turns to me. "If it is all the same to you, I'd like to return to my room."

"No. You are staying here and we are all making pancakes together, more or less as friends."

"Less would be preferable. But if I am to sit and endure your attempts at camaraderie, at least let me have some say in what occurs."

"Okay, Loki. What do you want to occur?" I ask. I cross my arms and glare at him around Thor's chest. "The only reason I'm trying to be friendly with you is because your dad told us to. And I really want to get out of here, so if I have to sort of be friends with you to do that, then that's what I'll do."

"But must this include baking?" It's almost a whine.

"You don't have to help make them, just try the pancakes when we're done."

"Thank you for lessening my pain," he says then sits back down, opening his book.

I open my mouth to say something, but close it. Don't be rude; you're trying to bring him closer, not push him away, I think as Thor and I return to the counter. But if I had known he was going to be this intolerable then maybe I wouldn't have— No. That's not true. Even if I had known well before hand that he'd be like this, I still would have sought his help. He is most likely the only one who has enough magic to even try opening the Bifrost, so we need his help. Maybe Frigga could help too, but I have one more day of 'bonding' to get through, so I need to take it one step at a time.

I spend the next ten to fifteen minutes calling out all the ingredients we need as Thor and a cook (who's name I think is Ingrid, but she grumbled it when I asked—I had dropped a bowl and she wasn't very happy we invaded her kitchen) retrieve everything I call out. Substitutions are made when something—say baking powder—from Earth has a completely different name than it's Asgardian counterpart. When this happens, I describe what it is used for, it's taste, or what it does and then Ingrid would mutter something in Norse and walk off shaking her head, only to come back with what I described. She is very grumbly but also very helpful.

When all of the ingredients are spread out on the counter, Ingrid leaves us. I tell Thor how much of everything I think we need and he measures out flour and sugar as I crack an egg into a small bowl.

A little while later, I glance up to see how he's doing. "No! Thor!"

He pauses just as he's about to dump a cup of sugar into his bowl. "What? You said two cups of sugar and only a few of these small spoons of flour."

"No, I said it was the other way around. If you put that much sugar in, they'll come out like hunks of sugar hockey pucks."

"I see."

I can tell he doesn't know what I'm talking about as he slowly draws his hand back and dumps the cup of sugar back into it's container. Then he measures out the correct amount of sugar and flour and pours them into a bowl together and we continue mixing and measuring and chatting lightly.

"It's just weird," I start a little while later, after thinking about what Thor had said about his and Jane's time together, "that Jane never talked more in depth about you. I would've thought she'd at least tell me how you met, but saying, 'Oh, you know, I hit him with my car twice and it was love at first sight,' would kinda be weird."

Thor chuckles. "I suppose it would. It could have also been that one of your government organizations was trying to put a stop to all her scientific endeavors."

I stop stirring the pancake batter. "Wait, what?"

"After my father sent me through the Bifrost's portal to your world, he then sent Mjölnir through as well. One of your government organizations found it and tried to conceal it from Midgardian eyes. I believe the organization's name began with an S... perhaps it was Shield, but I am not certain. I tried to pull the hammer from the rock in which it had landed, but I...failed."

"You were not yet worthy," Loki says from behind me.

"You were on Earth as well, brother," Thor says, his tone steely. "I am surprised you did not attempt to pull it from the stone."

"Oh, I did, but it was when you were in captivity." Loki flips a page in his book. "I was also unworthy, if that isn't painfully obvious."

Thor opens his mouth to say something but I cut in, "Both of you shut up! You're just trying to get a rise out of each other and we haven't even eaten breakfast yet!"

"You are right, I apologize," Thor says.

"Thank you," I say, ignoring Loki's lack of response. "But now the pancake batter is ready and waiting to be baked, so!" I hold the bowl out to Thor. "If you are worthy enough for Mjölnir, you are worthy enough to start making these," I say.

Thor laughs, but then looks at the batter, worried. "You want me to—"

This time I laugh. "Don't worry, I'll be right over. I'm just going to look for a spatula."

He nods and takes the bowl from me, then makes his way over to the stove top.

I open a drawer, push around some spoons and giant forks and...nothing. I check two more, but still there's nothing resembling a spatula anywhere. I dig through a jar full of various utensils and pull one out to look at it. The handle is made of wood and attached to it is a long metal rod that tapers to a point. I frown at it. What the heck do they use this for? Shrugging, I continue looking.

A second later, there's a tap on my shoulder. I jump, letting out a small shriek, and spin around. As I do, I put my left hand up, trying to block my face.

Now it's Loki's turn to cry out and I watch, frozen, and he backs away from me, pressing his fingers to his cheek.

"Jesu— Loki, what the hell?" I cry.

"I was merely going to ask if you needed assistance. I did not foresee my query bringing about your brandishing of a sharp metal object!" he says.

I look at his hands and from in between his fingers, I see red.

"Oh my god! Did this thing cut you?" I start toward him, then stop and put down the sharp pokey thing.

"Wise choice," he mutters.

"I forgot I was holding it. You just startled me. Sorry."

Loki pulls his hand away and looks at it. The tips of his fingers are covered in red and on his cheek, cutting perfectly across his right cheek bone, is a long, thin wound only slightly wider than a paper cut.

"It's not that big, okay, that's good," I say. "That means you can heal easily, right? With your...superhuman, god powers?"

He rolls his eyes then grimaces and winces.

"Do you know," he says, his voice sounding tight, "what is in the disk you so hastily attached to my skin?" I shake my head so he continues, "Poison. And because it is, in fact, poison, my abilities are weakened and thus I need...assistance." He says the last word like it is hard to get out.

He just asked for help. Loki, the God of Mischief, just asked me for help. Is this progress? Is he finally trusting me enough to ask me to help him? But he did say it was because he can't do it himself...But he also could go and look at it himself, in a mirror. I technically don't have to be the one who helps him. So I'm just going to go with the trusting—

"Well?" Loki asks when I haven't said anything.

I blink myself out of my thoughts. "Okay, right, sit down. Thor, can you get me a rag and some water?"

Thor looks up from the pancakes. "What in Odin's name happened?"

"I hit him in the face on accident."

The god's brow furrows, but he goes to get what I've asked for anyway.

Loki sits down in the chair he had been in before and moves his book to the floor. I pull a chair up next to him then find a stool to put the water on. I'm just sitting down when Thor returns, a bowl of steaming water, a brown cloth and a bandage in hand.

"Thanks," I say. He nods, setting them on the stool, and asks if I need any help. I say no, so he goes back over to make more pancakes. Props to him for figuring out how to do it without my help.

I dip a corner of the cloth into the hot water and touch it to his skin, just below the cut. Loki hisses and pulls his face out of my reach. "Careful girl," he snarls, his fingers pressed against his cheek.

"Loki, I need to get the blood off your skin so I can put a bandage on it." He purses his lips and a second later he straightens without looking at me, dropping his hand to his lap. I dampen the cloth again and wipe more blood away. I repeat this over and over and every time I do it, he flinches. Pressing my lips together and focusing on the cut, I hold his chin gently with my free hand and he (surprisingly) doesn't pull away.

When I have wiped away all the blood, I look at the cut. More blood has risen and threatens to drip down his cheek, so I wipe it away and as I do, I see a small glint of something silver. Part of the metal utensil must have chipped off when it hit him. Crap. First I poke him in the face, and now I have to tweeze a sliver out of his cheek without any tweezers. Crap.

I wipe away more blood, and look closer, making sure I'm not about to poke his wound for no reason. The same bit of silver twinkles back at me, almost mockingly, and I sit back. Blowing air out through puffed lips, I drop the rag into the bowl.

"What?" he says, staring at me.

"Do you guys have any tweezers?" I ask.

"Any what?"

That would be a 'no.'

"There's a sliver, and I need to get it out," I say.

He sighs.

"I need to get it out," I repeat.

"With what?"

"Well, I would use tweezers, but seeing as you don't know what those are, we'll have to settle with this rag."

"Very well, go ahead."

"It might hurt a little," I say.

He nods.

"Okay..."

I twirl the rag so that it forms a slightly pointed tip. Then, holding the cloth in one hand, I use my other to carefully open the cut a little. As I do, Loki flinches and pulls away slightly.

"Don't flinch," I say, glancing at him. He's looking at me.

"That hurt."

"Yeah? Well, it'll hurt a whole lot more with you flinching. So stop."

He does, so I pull open the cut just enough for me to try to get the sliver out. I try once and look at the tip of the rag. Nothing. I try again, and still it doesn't work. I'm going to need a needle. I try one more time, but it still doesn't work.

I sit back in my chair again.

"Finished?"

"No. I couldn't get it out. I need something small and pointed enough to pull it out or push it out."

"A needle perhaps?"

I nod. Loki nods and looks extremely uncomfortable.

"It'll be fine, it's just going to take a second," I say. I turn around. "Thor, can you get a needle?"

Thor flips four more pancakes then turns. "Yes, I shall."

I turn back to Loki who has pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Loki, don't worry. It'll just—"

"I do not need your compassion." He's quiet and his eyes follow Thor out of the room. "You claim to know me so well," he says once his brother is gone, "but have you ever gotten cut by a kitchen utensil?"

I stare at him, my mouth open slightly. Did he just make a joke? A grin flickers across his lips.

"Well, have you?" he asks.

I let out a short laugh. "I can proudly say I have not."

Loki smiles a little, but then it's gone. His resistance to opening up is infuriating.

"You say you know me so well," I say. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But have you ever been tortured for countless hours."

Instantly he looks away and I watch, frozen, as his features harden. He says something I can't catch so I open my mouth to ask, but he repeats it before I speak.

"Yes, I have."

Instinctively, I reach forward to take his hand and squeeze it, but I stop and let it hover in the air. I stare at it for a minute then grab his hand quickly. When I let go, he's looking at me.

"I...I'm sorry," I murmur.

"I have found one, Lady Freya," Thor calls. He walks in and over to us. "Is this to your liking?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Thank you." I take the needle he holds out to me.

"Once you have finished, there will be pancakes waiting," he says. He smiles. "I believe I have perfected the technique."

"I can't wait. And sorry I didn't help," I call as Thor returns to the stove.

"Do not fret."

I turn back around. "This will literally take thirty seconds. And if you want, I'll tell you what I'm doing as I do it."

"Do not treat me like a child in need of reassurance."

"Okay, I wont, but right now I'm just going to hold your head still so you don't move and make me poke you again. And now I'm just looking at it, okay?"

"Did you not hear what I just—"

"What you said earlier. That gives us two things in common."

Loki eyes me, clearly annoyed.

"One: we've both been tortured and two: our dads both suck, at least to some degree. Yours is a hundred times better than mine." I get the splinter out and rinse the needle in the water. "But that's only what I've gathered from what I've seen so far."

"You have not seen much," he mutters. "And if you are going to get the sliver out, do so."

I smile at him. "I already did."

"Then for Valhalla's sake, drop your hand." He grabs it, pulls it away from his cheek, pushes it at me roughly then stands.

He picks up the bandage and when he presses it onto his cheek, it blends in with his skin. He reaches down to pick up his book, and looks at me.

"If we are to be traipsing about the palace for the day, I wish to retrieve another book."

I stand up and push my chair back to it's place. Pointing at him, I say, "We are, and you can, but pancakes first, then we'll go back to your room."

He rolls his eyes. "Very well."

We walk over to Thor who has put out three plates, each containing two huge, perfectly round, golden pancakes.

Loki pulls a small piece of pancake off his plate and eats it. I watch him, waiting for his reaction.

"This is..." he says as he pulls off some more, "...very good."


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lifa walks out of my closet holding a dress with three-quarter length sleeves. I smile at her, then turn to look back outside at the night. The window nearest my bed gives me a view of a stone courtyard surrounded by shops whose windows bathe the snowy ground in golden light. People mill around in Asgardian coats and shawls, walking through the light snow.

"What is it?" Lifa asks.

"Nothing—Well..." I turn. "Should I be this nervous?"

"I think it is understandable," she says, laying the dress out on the sofa.

"Okay..." I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What if Loki can't open the portal.

She shrugs. "I suppose whatever happens, happens. You will be able to get through whatever it is no matter what. You have all of us supporting you. And you are determined and stubborn, so that will help things work out in the end."

"I'm stubborn?" I ask, smiling.

"Stubborn enough to handle Loki."

I walk over to her and pull her into a hug.

"You know," I say, "you're pretty wise for a kid. Or at least you're pretty good at acting like it."

"Let us settle with true wisdom." She laughs, stepping back. "But I greatly outnumber your age by hundreds of years, so I do not think _kid_ is an appropriate term, at least in Midgardian standards."

"You have a point."

She smiles at me, straightens the comforter on my bed, and says, "You will be fine. But if that is all, I really must be going."

"Yeah, that's it. Thanks, Lifa."

She curtsies and smiles wider, then turns to leave.

"And learn to hold your tongue, or whatever it was the Allfather said!"

"You are hilarious!" I call.

Lifa grins at me over her shoulder. "I know!" she calls back. As the door closes behind her, I hear laughing.

I change into my pajamas and walk over to my bag. Rummaging through it, my hand knocks against something hard and I pull out the Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien. I don't remember putting this in here. I walk over to my bed with it and get under the covers. Then I open the book and begin reading.

By the time I realize I'm not tired in the slightest, I've read to page 75 and no muffled footsteps have passed my door in a very long time. It must be late.

I look around with a sigh. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I pull on my warmest boots, put Loki's key around my neck and find a warm thing that resembles a robe. Then I grab my book and open my door slowly, glancing up and down the hall. No one is around, so I walk to Loki's door and knock. There's some thumping and I call out softly, "Loki?"

"Unlock the door, you imbecile," Loki says, his voice muffled.

I do and he swings it open.

"What?" he asks. Instead of his jacket, he wears a loose fitting green shirt and his feet are bare.

"I can't sleep."

"What makes you think I care? Especially at this late hour?"

I ignore his questions. "Can I come in?"

Loki sighs and rolls his eyes but, to my surprise, he steps aside. The door clicks behind me.

"Is there a reason you are pestering me now, child?"

"Were you sleeping?"

"No."

"Didn't think so."

I come to a stop and look around, taking in more of the room than I did when I woke him up this morning. There's a sofa in front of me and I stare at it—then where I am hits me. What the _hell_ am I doing here? I'm in Loki's room, at night, and he can easily do any strangling he pleases. And no one will hear my screams—

"What is it you need?"

I turn around and look at him. "I-I should go, I shouldn't be here...it's not—You're not—"

"If you are afraid I will harm you, I—" It's his turn to stop, and he sighs again, rubbing his eyes before looking at me.

"What?" I ask in a whisper. He's looking at me differently than he has before; his expression looks almost... soft... _ish_...

"I will not harm you." He doesn't say anything else as he walks over to his bed and picks up a book. Lounging back against the pillows, he begins reading.

I watch him, not knowing what to do. Loki being kind of nice is not a normal occurrence...but, then again, I _did_ come over here...

Shaking myself out of my confusion, I walk around to the front of the couch and sit. I pull off my boots, my robe slipping off my right shoulder as I do, and cross my legs. I start reading again and for a while, we're both quiet.

I hear Loki get up and start to pace around the room behind me. I glance over at him; he's still reading but is frowning at the book.

Turning back around, I try to read more but his footsteps begin to quicken and get louder. I close my book with a sigh; I can't concentrate with all this pacing. I turn around in my seat and fold my arms on the back of the sofa, looking at him. "What are you reading?"

He doesn't respond as his eyes continue down the rest of the page. Finally, still pacing, he says, "It is called, 'The Elves of Svartalheim.' I am trying to see if they have the power to cause whatever has happened to the Bifrost."

"Do they?" I ask. "What does it say?"

"Nothing," he says, fanning through the pages he's already read. "I have found absolutely nothing."

"Do you still think it was them, then?"

"I never told you what I believe, if I am recalling correctly." He looks at me.

"Then who do you think did it?"

"I am not certain, but if I am correct, there are forces at play unknown to even the great Allfather."

I raise my eyebrows at him, assuming he will go on. When he doesn't, I say, "Well? What are these _other forces?_"

"I do not know," he mutters, coming to a stop. He slaps the book closed and throws it away from him. It hits the floor with a dull thud and slides into a wall.

This is just perfect. Loki has a completely different theory that doesn't have any logical evidence. Not _yet_, anyway. And if he's right and there is something else out there keeping the Bifrost shut, that makes my chances of leaving even slimmer, and they were slim to begin with.

I sigh and look back down at my book. My right arm still dangles over the back of the sofa and I hear Loki walk closer. I'm not going to get any more reading done tonight.

"So I'm not leaving," I say.

"That is not what I said," Loki says, his voice quiet.

"That's what you were _implying_."

"I was not implying anything in the slightest," he says. "What is this?"

"What is what?" I'm about to turn around when I feel his cool finger tips on my shoulder. I stiffen as he traces the small star inked there.

"You mean my tattoo," I say, shifting a little.

Loki draws his hand back, seeming to realize he's been touching my shoulder this whole time.

"If that is what it is called," he says. He straightens and looks down at me. "What is it?"

"It's a long story," I pull my robe over my exposed shoulder, "a _really_ long story."

Loki chuckles a little as he walks around to a chair sitting across from me. "Trust me when I say this, Freya: I truly have all night."

My jaw drops, and I stare at him. Did he just call me 'Freya?' I quickly go back through my stay in Asgard and try to recount every conversation I have ever had with him. Has he ever called me anything but child, girl, mortal, wench..._imbecile?_ No...I don't think he has.

Loki smirks and sits down in the chair. He rests his elbows on the arms and clasps his hands in his lap, waiting for me to talk.

"S-sorry, um...alright." I pick up a small cube from the sofa table in front of me. It looks like it's made of dark green quartz and I fiddle with it as I talk.

"When I was ten, my dad was still relatively nice. I mean, he had never played dolls or house or anything, but we'd wrestle and play tag—I'd always win. But, anyway, at this point my parents had been fighting enough for me to notice. I think I was just hoping it was normal arguments that all parents have, but it was happening a lot and over absolutely _nothing_. My dad slowly became more and more controlling and strict with school work and stuff. He always needed me to go to my room at certain times so that he could have some free time, even though all I ever did was read or draw.

"It was in April, on April Fool's Day—April First. We call it April Fool's Day; it's dedicated to pranks. You'd probably really enjoy it, actually." Loki grins a little, then nods for me to continue. "So my mom and I thought that, since it was April Fool's Day, it'd be funny to trick my dad into thinking we got tattoos. I was ten so it was illegal, and my mom would never let me get one that young, nor did I want one at that age. We ended up finding some temporary ones at the store and we put them on so my dad would see them when he got home from work. I got a star like I have now, in the same place on my shoulder. I wanted it to be visible. My mom got this little fancy ladybug on her upper back.

"When my dad got home, we were both wearing tank tops and trying not to laugh and give it away. But I cracked," I laugh a little. "I went up to him when he came in and said, 'Daddy, look what I have!' then I spun around and showed him. And...then he grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me back around to look at him. He started yelling at me and asking what I'd done to my skin. I tried to tell him it was fake and that it was just an April Fool's joke, but he was shaking me and yelling too loudly to hear me.

"My mom ran over, and tried to pull him away from me, but he turned to her and started screaming even louder, which didn't even seem possible. He just wouldn't stop yelling and I didn't know why—" I stop and press my lips together as hard as I can, trying to contain the sobs starting in my throat. "That was—" My voice cracks. "That—"

I lean over and cover my face with my hands, shaking my head.

"Take your time," Loki murmurs.

I nod, not looking up.

Finally, when I think I can make it through a sentence, I sit up and rub my eyes. Loki is staring at his hands, but glances at me when I move.

"I'm good now, er...I think," I say, laughing a little. He nods, then looks back at his hands. "They yelled back and forth for a while but suddenly it stopped, and then he slapped her. And that got them yelling again. I didn't know what to do and just stood there completely frozen.

"My mom told me to go up to my room and I said no and then my dad spun around and started walking towards me. He raised his hand and I screamed because he looked scary and I didn't want him to slap me. My mom stopped him by grabbing his arm. She told me again to go to my room, and I did. But I stopped on the stairs and looked around the railing and saw him throw a book at her; it hit her in the jaw. Then I ran upstairs and wrote a note that said, 'Speak friend and enter,' which is from this book series..." I point at the Lord of the Rings book sitting on the cushion next to me. "I knew my dad had never read them, but my mom had, so she'd get the sign. I taped it to my door then locked myself in and cried on my bed for a while."

I stop and look at Loki. He is staring at something over my head and doesn't seem to realize I've stopped talking.

"So...I, uh, tried to get the tattoo off with nail polish remover because I thought he'd stop being so angry and scary."

"Did it come off?" He's still staring off into space.

"No," I say, laughing humorlessly. "It didn't come off for three weeks."

Loki finally looks at me, brows furrowed. "Did your father get..."

"No, he didn't get better, if that's what you were going to ask. That day was the beginning of the end."

He smiles for a fleeting second.

"When I turned eighteen, my mom and I got the same tattoos we got that April Fool's Day, but this time they were real. I think it was a way of separating ourselves from him, maybe because we had something he didn't approve of. I don't know..."

"That makes sense," Loki says quietly. "I know what it means to have something that separates you from others."

He flexes his fingers, and I look at his hand. It has turned blue and the color reaches into his sleeve. When he sees me watching, the blue fades.

"Well." I look at his face and smile. "That is how I got my tattoo."

He nods, leans back and watches me. "Fascinating," he says, grinning.

I stare at him for a moment before I begin laughing. Loki smiles wider and laughs too. This is the first time I've heard him laugh, and it's nice not to hear him angry, dripping sarcasm or on the verge of exploding.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.

I shake my head. "It's nothing."

"I'm sure," he says, pushing himself up. He walks over to his bed and sorts through some books. He picks one up and walks back over to the chair.

"Now tell me," Loki says, "what is so special about a book containing the line 'Speak friend and enter?'"

I pick up my book. "It's one of my favorites: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien."

"What is it about?"

"Hobbits, dwarves, elves—_nice_ elves, by the way—and wizards and humans."

"Yes, but what _happens_ in it?"

"Do you want me to read you some?" I ask. I glance up at him.

"If you so desire," he says, waving his hand to tell me to go ahead.

I raise my eyebrows at him, then flip to the first page of the book and begin to read. I get a couple pages in and glance up to see his reaction. He nods, a look of concentration on his face, and I continue.

A while later, after I've gotten farther in, I look up again. Loki is sitting with his head resting on his hand. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful.

"Loki," I whisper.

"Why have you stopped?" he asks, not opening his eyes.

"I thought you fell asleep."

"I was not asleep; I was listening."

"Oh really? What happened then?"

He cracks his eyes open. "The party has started and Bilbo Baggins just disappeared, the crowd is astonished; carry on."

I smile and keep reading.

...

I read for at least another hour and a half. By that time, I'm fighting to keep my eyes open and I have to focus all my energy on the page.

"Freya?"

I blink up at Loki.

"You are exhausted, and quite honestly, it is painful to hear you read each line three times."

I nod, rubbing my eyes. Then, putting down my book, I take off my robe and bundle it into a pillow shape.

"Do you wanna read something? I'd love to hear some Asgardian literature," I say.

"That was my intention when picking out this book." He flips it to the first page.

I lie down and watch as he shifts in his seat. He looks almost shy as he opens his mouth to start. When he finally does though, the look disappears and excitement glows in his eyes.

It starts out in a small town in a realm called Vanaheim. The story introduces a man who makes all the money for his family because his wife has to take care of the children. But he has to leave because a war breaks out somewhere. He leaves behind his family, who have to try to make do without him.

As he reads, my eyes flutter shut. What seems like a second later, I hear my name.

"Freya," Loki says.

"Hmm?"

"You were asleep." His voice is a whisper.

"I wasn't sleeping," I mumble. "I was listening."


	16. Chapter 15

Light floods in through the open curtains, pushing its way through my eyelids and breaking apart the remnants of a bad dream that included needles. Of course.

Yawning, I roll over and blink at the bright morning sunshine. Didn't I close them? I blink some more and prop myself up on one elbow. There's a table in front of me—that isn't my table—and on the other side of that is a chair with a book on it. And _that_ isn't my chair.

"Oh my god," I mutter. I'm still in Loki's room.

I sit up fully, pausing to stare at the brown blanket covering my legs. That wasn't there when I fell asleep last night.

"Thank you for the blanket," I say, swinging my legs to the floor. There's no answer. I begin to fold it as I say louder, "I _said_, thanks for the blanket." Still no answer.

I pull on my boots. "Are you seriously still asleep? You woke up pretty quickly yester-" I turn to look at the bed. _Loki isn't in it._

"Uhhhh... Loki?" I call, standing up and pulling on my robe. I walk over to the bathroom door and knock. "Loki? Are you in there?" I don't hear anything from inside, so I open the door and peak my head in. Sure enough, Loki is nowhere to be found.

"Oh no," I whisper. I turn to face the door that hangs slightly open. Since I slept on the couch, I never locked the door. That means he had a chance to leave and, as he's not here, he obviously took it. _Damn it._

I check to make sure I have the key before I swing the door open and almost run into someone.

"Lifa!" I cry.

She jumps when she sees me. "Freya!"

I glance up and down the hall, seeing if Loki might be coming back. He isn't.

"Lady Freya, I was just coming to wake you. The meeting is in three hours' time." She looks past me. "Why were you in Loki's room?"

"Um, well..." I push past her and open the door to my room, pulling her in behind me.

"What is it?" she asks, frowning at me.

"Last night I couldn't sleep so I went over to just talk to Loki for a little while. Then I ended up falling asleep on his couch." I fidget with one of the strings on the robe. "And, well, I never...locked the door."

"What?"

"I never locked the door and Loki...er..." I pause.

"And he _what?_" Lifa asks, staring at me worriedly.

"Loki isn't in his room," I say.

"_What?!_" she cries.

I grab the dress off of the sofa and run into my closet, slamming the door behind me. A few seconds later there's pounding and Lifa's yelling.

"You _lost_ him?"

"Yes!"

"Freya, he could be anywhere in the palace!"

"I know!" I pull on the dress and swing the door open. "I was hoping you might be able to narrow that down, though."

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You've lived here your whole life. You know where he might be better than me," I say, starting to pace around the room. _I haven't taken off my boots..._

"Valhalla help us," she murmurs. "Well...hmm..." She thinks for a second. "Perhaps the library?"

"Great! Okay." I walk over to the door. "How do I get there?"

"If you take your first right and go all the way to the end of the corridor there should be an archway on your left. Good luck," she says. "I will wander around and see what I can hear."

"Thank you."

I run down the hall and turn right, not stopping when I almost run into a woman carrying a bucket of soapy water.

"Sorry!" I yell.

The woman yells back in angry Norse.

I pass at least four doors and archways, all on my left, before I get to the one I need. When I do finally get there, I'm out of breath and shaking from nerves.

There's a window in front of me and I walk over to it and lean against the sill to catch my breath. Outside, the snow I saw last night has almost completely melted and now patches the bright green grass with pristine, sparkling white.

Once I've caught my breath, I turn toward the archway and the stairs that are visible inside. The echos of voices bounce their way down to me. I can't tell whose voices they are, so, praying one of the people is Loki, I start up the stairs.

As I get closer to the library, one voice is the loudest.

"_Comfort_, mother?" Loki yells. "I am confined to my room. Wherever I wish to go, that _girl_ must be escorting me. How am I to find comfort in _that?_"

For some reason, his words sting a little. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, but I thought we had bonded at least _a little_ last night.

"Loki, you knew the consequences of your actions. This is no one's fault but yours," Frigga says.

I reach the top of the stairs and am about to peek inside, but change my mind. It probably wouldn't be a good idea for them to find me listening in. At least it wouldn't be a good idea for _Loki_ to find me right now.

I sit down, my back pressed against the wall next to the door.

"My actions," Loki repeats. "Have I not been promised a kingdom? Have I not, since I was a child, been fed the lie I am to be a king?"

"That does not excuse your actions. A _king_ would not kill hundreds of innocent mortals," says the Queen.

"What of Odin's actions, then? He has killed plenty more people than I!"

"Loki, your father—"

"_HE IS NOT MY FATHER!_" he screams.

I jump and push myself farther away from the door. I shouldn't be hearing this. I should get up and go back downstairs until they're done talking.

"Then am I not your mother."

"You are not," Loki says.

The Allmother laughs, but it's humorless. She says something too quiet for me to hear and then footsteps make their way down a staircase inside and towards the door. I freeze, afraid she will reprimand me for eavesdropping.

Frigga walks out of the library, blinking rapidly. She glances at me and smiles.

"I—" I scramble to my feet. "I am sorry, I meant no disrespect!" I attempt something that's a combination between a bow and a curtsy, but the Queen shakes her head.

"Do not apologize, Freya. Curiosity gets the best of us at times; you have done nothing wrong." She touches my shoulder. "Talk to him."

"What?"

"Talk to him," she repeats.

"He won't talk to _me!_" I say a little too loudly. I lower my voice. "He doesn't even listen to me, let alone care what I say."

She chuckles, squeezes my shoulder, then turns and makes her way down the stairs and out of sight. I stand and stare at the steps, trying to figure out why she laughed, and also whether I should actually go inside the library or not.

I have two options and both include inevitably angry gods—I don't think Odin would be very happy with me if I ditched his son. I choose the god closest to me and timidly peek my head around the door.

The room is a _giant circle_. The domed ceiling is at least twenty feet above my head and made entirely of glass. The walls are almost completely covered in bookshelves jam-packed with books of various sizes. A spiral staircase leads up to a second story and on this second story stands Loki, looking out a window. His hands are clasped behind his back.

I push the door open, a small squeak of protest coming from one of the hinges. The god's eyes dart to me and I freeze. He doesn't say anything, just turns and walks away from me.

Once I'm sure it's safe, I walk in and continue to look around the room. A rail connects to the shelves and one of those rolling ladders is attached to it. I've always loved libraries, and this has to be the coolest one I've ever been in.

Trying to contain my excitement, I walk over to the rolling ladder and climb up a little ways. I grip one of the rungs with one hand and push off against a shelf with the other. The ladder rolls, picking up speed as I continue to push off shelves and the wall. Soon I'm flying around the room as shelves and books fly by in a blur.

I climb a little higher just as I pass a window. As I pass, I look out and see people walking on a path far below.

I close my eyes and let the sensation of flying take over.

"What in Asgard's name are you doing?"

Suddenly, the ladder stops moving. My eyes fly open as the momentum makes me lose my balance and my hands slip off the ladder. I start to fall back, but Loki grabs my wrist and pulls me back against the ladder.

When my eyes were closed, the ladder had gone to the section of rail attached to the upper level and that is where Loki crouches.

"It may be wise," he says, "to get down before you hurt yourself."

I nod and he lets go of my wrist. He straightens and watches as I climb back down the ladder.

Now that I'm standing on solid ground, Loki repeats his question. "What were you doing?"

"What did it _look_ like I was doing?" I say, walking over to a chair and plopping down in it.

"Well, it _looked_ like you were being extremely reckless and stupid." He comes down the spiral stair case, walking along the far bookshelves.

"Maybe I was, but it was still fun." I cross my arms and watch him look for a book.

He pulls out a volume and flips through it before putting it back.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

"Because I woke up on your couch and you were gone," I say, pushing myself up.

"Thank you for leaving the door unlocked, by the way," Loki says, a smile in his voice. "That was very _kind_ of you." He finally finds the book he's looking for and tucks it under his arm. Sitting down in another chair, he opens the book and begins reading.

"Oh yeah, about that. You should have wakened me before you left. We could both have gotten in trouble." I try to make it sound scolding, but it comes out more annoyed than anything.

"Should I have?" He glances at me, smirking.

"Yes."

"It is not my fault you neglected your duties. You were the one that didn't lock the door; I should not have done anything." He looks back down at his book.

"I thought we—" I cut off. "You know what? Never mind. I don't care. This is impossible; you are impossible."

I sit back down, grab a random book off a shelf and open it. It's all in Norse so I pretend to read it. _What I said wasn't entirely true. I do care. I care enough to try to create a tolerable relationship so that I can leave._

"What were you going to say?" Loki asks.

I ignore him.

"You thought we _what?_"

I hear him sigh and close his book.

"Freya, I—"

I finally look at him. "Odin said we have to get along and I thought that last night we had bonded. Even just a _little_. But what I heard makes me think I'm wrong."

His eyes narrow. "What you _heard_ makes you think you're wrong? Tell me, Freya, what did you _hear?_"

I've said something wrong. I've slipped up and Loki noticed. Shit.

"Um..." I press my lips into a line.

"_Well?_"

"When I first got here, I heard you and your mother talking and you—"

"Why were you listening?" he asks.

"I came up and you were talking. I didn't try to come when I did."

Loki stands. "That conversation was not for you to hear!"

I stand up as the air fills with his anger.

"I know, and I'm sorry. It's just when you were talking you still seemed really cold about how—"

"About how I am forced to have an escort? About how I can never go anywhere privately?" he yells, walking toward me. "Are my feelings not justified in your eyes? How would _you_ feel if you were locked away by your father? How would _you_ feel if you were a prisoner in your own home?"

He stops when he's a few feet away from me. His eyes glow with anger.

"I—Your feelings are justified. I understand that it must be infuriating never to be trusted enough to be let out of someone's sight," I say as calmly as I can. "And to be perfectly honest, my dad never really enjoyed my company as I got older for whatever reason, so I understand that. But you can't say that it's unfair you need an escort and are locked up in your room at night now that you're out of the dungeons. That _isn't_ unfair because you brought it on yourself, Loki. You did that to yourself when you tried to take over my planet. It's no one's fault but yours!"

Loki gets in my face in one long stride.

"It would be smart to watch your tongue, Freya," he hisses.

"I'm just telling you the truth." I back up a little, trying to get out of his line of reach, but before I can, he grabs me and pushes me against one of the book shelves.

His hand is around my throat before I have time to register what's going on.

"Loki, what the _hell!_" I gasp.

His eyes turn red.

"_Loki!_" I say as loudly as I can. "Let me go!"

"Get out of here." He throws me away from him with shaking hands.

"Loki—"

"Get out, Freya!" His hands have turned blue and in an instant, his face changes colors too.

Raised markings swoop over his cheeks, forehead and skin. A small gasp escapes my lips and I can't bring my eyes away from his face.

"Get. _Out_," he hisses.

I get up and walk to the doors without looking back, even though I want to. When I swing the door open, though, I come face to face with Sif.

"Lady Sif!" I exclaim, dipping my head.

"Good morning, Lady Freya. I have been told by the Allmother that you and Loki have spent the morning in the library," she says.

"You could...say that," I mutter.

"Is something the matter?" She frowns.

"No, we just, um, had a somewhat loud discussion." I rub my throat.

"Are you alright?"

I nod.

"I am glad to hear all is well." Sif looks around as if just realizing I'm alone. "Where is Loki?"

I point to the library doors that have swung shut behind me.

"I will speak with him, but first I must tell you that the Allfather has decided to have the meeting earlier than he originally planned. Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet." I'm about to tell her why, but stop when I realize my explanation would include telling her how I left the door unlocked.

"Neither have I. I will accompany you both to your meal and then we shall go to the meeting of the Council together," Sif says. "I shall be back."

She walks into the library and I hear her tell Loki what she told me. A moment later, Sif returns, followed by an annoyed looking Loki.

...

I walk into the Council room behind Lady Sif and Loki. The warrior sits in what must be her usual seat and Loki takes a seat next to a person I don't know. Thor motions me into the seat between him and his brother.

Once I'm seated, Odin quiets everyone and starts the meeting. First they talk about barbarians and wars that have broken out. Apparently the Bifrost had broken once before, but it was actually _broken_ then, not just refusing to work.

They continue to talk about what to do about the wars and I begin to wonder why I'm even here. Are they ever going to talk about the Malekith problem? If they aren't, why are we in this meeting? It'd be much faster to just go down to the Bifrost and try to open it now.

"Lady Freya," Thor says.

I look at him. "Yes?"

"What have you to say on the matter?" Odin asks, looking extremely put off.

_The_ matter? The matter of wars?

"What matter are we talking about?" I ask.

"The Bifrost. Freya, if you are not going to pay attention, you may leave," he says.

"No! No, I'm sorry, I'm paying attention. I was just thinking about something else. Sorry." I wait, but no one says anything. "Can you repeat the question?"

The Allfather sighs, but repeats what he said. "I asked if you remember anything Malekith told you when you were with him. Perhaps why he needs you for whatever he's planning."

"I was mostly unconscious."

"Are you sure he didn't say anything to you?" Thor asks.

"Um..." I think back to the time on his ship. "I asked him why I was going with him and he said it was because I might be special."

Odin strokes his beard. "Do you know what he meant by that?"

"No. That's all he said."

"Do you remember anything else?"

I think harder. "He did tell me that he'd stop sticking me with needles if I did something. But they happened to inject me with a needle right then so I wasn't paying attention," I say. "Oh, and then later, he said I needed to help him find something, I think. Again, my insides felt like lava, so I wasn't really aware of anything else."

Odin is quiet as he thinks.

I glance at Loki, who's watching me, eyes narrowed. I raise my eyebrows, trying to ask him '_What?_' without saying anything. He just smirks and turns to look at his father when Odin finally talks.

"I was hoping you would remember a little more than _that_," the Allfather says.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Do you remember what I told you about that elf in the dungeon?" Loki asks. Everyone looks at him.

"Yes," Odin says.

"Well, he was mistaken," Loki says. Malekith needs Freya to find something and I believe that something is what the elf assumed he already had."

"What thing?" I ask. I'm ignored, of course.

"Doesn't that prove it, then?"

Odin watches Loki with a strange look on his face. "What are you implying?" he asks.

"There's _another_," Loki says.

"That's impossible, Loki. There are only six and there have always been only six," Fandral says.

Loki turns to him, raising one eyebrow.

"There could possibly be something powerful that the Dark Elves want, but it is certainly _not_ another Infinity Stone," Fandral continues.

"Fandral, tell me. Do you have proof to the words you speak?" Loki asks.

Fandral frowns. "No, but it's impossible!"

I look at Thor. "What are they talking about? What's an Infinity Stone?"

Thor looks like he's about to answer, but the Allfather cuts everyone off, "This is not what we are here to discuss!"

"Father," Thor says, "it would make sense. Heimdall did say he saw—"

"Thor!" Odin barks, glancing at me. "This is a discussion for another time."

Thor doesn't say anything.

"Now, back to why I have called this meeting. We must try to open the Bifrost and that is why Loki is here. I have decided to allow him a small bit of his magic. It should be enough to open the Bifrost, unless it is closed off tighter than I believe." He turns to me. "Once it is open, we will revisit the matter of you leaving and what that entails, but for now let us meet with Heimdall."

Everyone stands, so I do too. We walk out of the Council room, down some hallways and some stairs. Every now and then a few people break off, saying their goodbyes, until it's only Odin, Frigga, Thor, Loki, the Warriors Three, Lady Sif and me.

We get to two large doors and the Allfather swings them open. Outside are stairs that lead to a path. And this path leads to a long, shimmering bridge. The large golden globe, the Bifrost, attaches to the end and extends a little ways past the edge of the sea, hanging out into the nothingness.

"Oh my gods," I murmur.

Thor laughs. "It is beautiful, is it not?"

I nod. "Is that the Rainbow Bridge?" It's a dumb question, but I just want to make sure.

"Yes, it is," he says.

We walk down the path in silence and after a while, we get to the edge of the bridge. I hold my breath as I step on, not knowing what to expect. When my foot touches the weird colorful surface, white light laced with strands of color spread out and away from my boot.

"Oh my _gods!_" I squeal. This gets another laugh out of Thor and an annoyed look from Loki.

As we walk, my gaze shifts from the giant metal beams keeping the bridge up and back to the bridge it's self. The color's seem to shift as slowly as we walk and I get so mesmerized by them that I almost run into Volstagg when we stop at the end of the bridge.

A man in golden armor stands at the entrance to the Bifrost and when we approach, he clasps his fist over his chest.

"My king," he says, dipping his head toward Odin.

"Hello, Heimdall," the Allfather answers.

Thor leads me closer and I can't help but notice Heimdall's eyes. The irises are gold and he looks blind and not blind all at the same time.

He must notice me watching him.

"Hello, Freya," Heimdall says.

"How do you know my name?" I ask. This is probably another dumb question.

Heimdall smiles. "I am the watcher of all of the Nine Realms. I can see everything that transpires...at least I could until Malekith broke through. Now I can see only this one."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize." He turns back to Odin. "You wish to reopen the Bifrost using Loki's magic."

"Yes," Odin says. "He is to have a limited amount for security reasons, but it should be enough to open the Bifrost."

Loki scoffs. "If I am to do this, let us get on with it." He pulls up his sleeve, exposing the metal disk, and holds his arm out to his father. Odin touches the edge and moves his finger like he's turning a dial.

When he finishes, Loki smiles. The god disappears only to reappear farther inside the Bifrost. "Oh, this is _much_ better!"

We all follow him inside.

Loki is standing on a raised platform with stairs leading up to it. He looks at a slot in the ground, then back at us.

"The sword," he says, holding out his hand. Heimdall walks up the stairs and hands Loki a sword. "Now stand back, it may get a bit uncontrollable—if it works."

Thor puts his arm around my shoulders and we all stand in the doorway.

Loki readjusts his grip on the sword and I see magic crackle through the air and into the sword. He takes a deep breath and raises the sword in the air. More energy crackles into the sword and he plunges it into the slot in the ground.

Lightning shoots out of the sword's hilt and spreads throughout the room. There's a loud crack and the walls shimmer. Then the electricity disappears just as quickly as it had come.

No one says anything and I look at Thor to see what's going on, but he just shrugs.

Loki turns to us with a grin and bows. "This is when you thank me," he says.

Heimdall says something to Odin then walks into the Bifrost. "This is not when we thank you."

"My success is to go unacknowledged?" Loki asks. "How rude."

"It didn't work," Odin says.

"What?" I cry.

"It _must_ have worked," Loki says. "You all saw the walls shimmer."

"Yes, we did," Heimdall says. "But, unless I am blind to everything but Asgard, your attempt failed."

Dread begins to make it's way down my spine and my hands start to shake.

"Freya, are you alright?" Thor asks.

I shake my head and keep shaking it as I duck under Thor's arm.

_I'm not going home. I'm trapped here._

I turn, ignoring everyone's calls to come back, and start to run back towards the castle. I sprint as fast as I can, racing the rainbows as they shift and churn. A second or ten minutes later I've made it back to the path and I follow it to the right.

It leads me around the edge of the castle and past some trees and bushes. I continue to sprint until I can barely breathe and my lungs feel like they've shriveled into raisins.

I find a bench and sit down, looking around to figure out where I am. The bench is surrounded by trees and above the tree tops I can make out a bridge connecting two parts of the castle.

I place my elbows on my knees and my forehead on the palms of my hands and sit there, trying to calm down and make the panic go away. Closing my eyes, I take deep breaths which turn into shaky breaths which turn into shuddering breaths which turn into me hyperventilating. I try to get control of my breathing, but no matter what I do, I can't.

One thought spins through my head, making my panic grow:_ I'm trapped here and I can't leave._

_I'm trapped on another realm and it could be forever and I can never go home._

I cover my mouth as sobs try to break through my rapid breathing. When they do, they sound like coughs and gasps, and they hurt.

"That does not sound healthy," Loki says.

I look up to see him standing on the path watching me.

"Odin is not pleased with you," he says. He walks over and sits down next to me. "You should think twice before running off next time."

"Send him — my — apologies," I gasp.

Loki chuckles.

"What was that odd noise you were making?"

"I was...crying," I say, when I can finally speak.

"I know what crying sounds like, and that certainly is not it," he says.

"That's what it sounds like when you're hyperventilating at the same time."

"Well, it was extremely disconcerting, so do not do it again."

I glare at him. "I am so _sorry_ that my crying was bothering you. It's not like I just learned I'm never going home."

"I wouldn't say _never_."

"Then what would you say?"

"_Most likely_ never."

I stand up and turn on him.

"Do you think that makes me feel better?" I yell.

"I thought it would put you a little more at ease."

"But it doesn't, Loki! I just found out I'm stuck in a different realm _most likely_ forever and I can't leave. I can't talk to my mom or my friends to tell them I'm okay and not kidnapped!"

Loki glances up when there's a small crack. "Freya, please calm—"

"I will _not_ calm down!" I yell, becoming suddenly aware of the tingling in my fingertips. It seems to grow as I yell. "I have a right to be angry. I got ripped out of my life by a Dark Elf. He _crushed_ my arm with his bare hand and then injected me with stuff that burned my insides."

I see him look up again at another, louder, crack.

"And you don't care. But I don't know why you'd care." I throw my hands in the air. "I'm freaking out and you just sit there and—" More cracking. "And you just sit there!"

"Freya. Calm _down_," he says, starting to rise in his seat.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down. You don't—" This time the crack is extremely loud, and I look up just in time to see the tree branch before it hits me in the head.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I'm awake, or _half_ awake at least, but everything in me is telling me to go back to sleep. My body is lead and trying to wake up fully feels like swimming up through wet cement.

Slowly, voices start to filter their way through my grogginess. A man and a woman are talking on either side of me. The woman asks about the signs of something and the man answers. Is that Thor? I feel his hand smooth down my hair. Yeah, that's Thor.

There's a distant throbbing in my forehead that feels like it's trying to make its way to the back of my brain, but I can't bring myself to figure out why it hurts.

I'm slightly more awake now and I realize I'm lying in a bed. A big, comfy, fluffy bed; I'm in the infirmary...again.

Now when the woman—Eir, that's Eir—speaks, I can make out what she asks.

"Was that the only sign?"

I feel the pillow move as Thor places his hand above my head. "That was all I witnessed. She never informed me of any other strange occurrences," he says. "I suppose she could have neglected to tell me and brushed them off as side effects from her time with the Dark Elves."

"I believe that is exactly what happened," Eir says, walking a little ways away before continuing. "She would not have experienced anything like this before."

I hear clinking of glass vials and bottles and then the healer returns to the bedside.

"Now, Thor, you are positive that was the only indication of _anything?_"

"Yes."

"You are _positive?_"

"_Yes!_ I never—"

"When we were in mother's sitting room, she shocked me," Loki says from somewhere by the bottom of the bed.

"She shocked you?" Thor asks.

"Why have you only spoken of this now?" Eir says, her voice tight with annoyance.

Loki sighs and I imagine his eye-roll.

"No one ever _asked_ me."

"We never thought it necessary, Loki," his brother growls. "We thought you would tell us if anything happened when you were alone with her."

"It was so obvious, brother," Loki says, the smirk clear in his voice, "I am surprised it took the mighty Thor so long to figure it out. And I am especially surprised it took _you_ so long to piece it together, Eir."

"I had my suspicions," Eir says. "But I did not want to voice them until I was sure."

I shift a little. Finally, my eyes decide to open and I blink up at the ceiling high above me. Immediately, Thor comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Freya! How are you?" he asks, staring at me.

"Um..." I push myself up into a sitting position and try to ignore the small pulsing in my head. "Okay, I think. How long have I been out?"

"Only a few hours."

I look around a little. I'm in a larger room this time, with more than one bed in it. Curtains hang from rails, waiting to separate the beds from one another.

Loki sits in a chair at the end of the bed with his feet propped up on the baseboard, a book open in his lap.

As I turn back to look at Thor, my head throbs and I wince.

Eir holds out the vial I heard her get. "Drink this. The pain will subside for a while."

I nod and down the liquid without question.

"Thank you," I say, sighing as warmth fills me and travels up to my head. The pain disappears completely.

I lean against the pillows. Thor and Eir look at me, worried. Loki glances up from his book, a slightly concerned, slightly amused look on his face.

"...What...?" I ask.

"What do you remember before you went unconscious?" Eir asks. "I must be sure your memory has not been damaged."

"Right..." I think for a second, recalling the events of the day. "After I woke up"—I glance at Loki who has returned to his book—"Loki and I went to the library and then Lady Sif found us. We went to the Council Meeting, then to the Bifrost. I met Heimdall. Loki couldn't open the portal, and I ran... And then Loki found me and I started yelling and a dead tree branch cracked and hit me on the head."

Eir and Thor exchange a look.

"What? Did I forget something important?" I look at Loki. "Did I?"

He just looks at me, even more amused than he was before.

"_What?_" I cry. "Thor! What is it?"

But Eir is the one who speaks, "You did not forget anything important, you only included one false detail in your recollection."

"Did I _skip_ across the Rainbow Bridge instead of run?" I ask, trying to hide a smile.

Loki laughs.

"No," Thor says.

"Then _what?_ You guys are being really vague and mysterious. Just tell me." I look at Eir then at Thor. "_Guys?_"

Loki is the one who finally speaks. "The branch wasn't dead."

I frown at him.

"But it _cracked_," I say. "Live tree branches wouldn't just fall like that. It must've been dead."

"Loki is correct," Thor says. I look at him. "The branch that fell was not dead."

"Well, maybe the tree was...old," I say. What are they hiding?

"The trees in that clearing are old in Midgardian standards, but to Asgardians they are young, fairly new," Eir says. "The branch did not break on it's own."

"Uh." I look at all of them, taking in Thor and Eir's worry, Loki's cool amusement. "S-so what're you saying?" I say.

Eir sits on the bed next to me. "Freya, _you_ were the one who broke the branch."

I sit in silence and frown at the bedspread as I take this in. _I_ was the one who broke the branch. But _how?_

I open my mouth to ask, but Loki has already read my mind.

"Is it not obvious?" he asks as he slaps his book closed. When I don't say anything, he sighs and drops his feet to the ground, leaning toward me. "You have magic, you stupid girl."

We stare at each other for a moment: Loki waiting for my reaction, me trying to see if he's serious.

Then I burst out laughing.

Loki rolls his eyes and sits back in his chair, clearly annoyed.

"You can't be serious," I say in between laughs.

In response, he just raises an eyebrow at me and my laughter begins to fade. I look at Thor, then at Eir, who's glaring at the God of Mischief.

"But he's not _serious_, right?" I ask.

"Loki," Eir says, not answering my question, "we were going to tell her gently—"

"Would that make any difference?" he asks. "She does not believe me now, she would not believe you then!"

"But. He's. Not. Serious. _Right?_" I repeat slowly. They all look at me and I know that they're telling the truth... I guess I already did. But it's crazy, right? "He can't be serious. I can't have magic. It's impossible." Even to my own ears I don't sound convincing.

"No, Freya," Eir says. "It is not."

"No, that's impossible," I say. "_Impossible_."

Thor tries to take my hand but I pull it away and squeeze my hands into fists, not fully registering my finger nails as they bite into my palms.

_How is this possible?_

"How do you know?" I ask, glancing at Loki.

"You broke the branch—"

"What more than that?" I snap, cutting him off. He looks slightly stunned when I ask this, but I keep going. "If that's all, it could just be coincidence."

"But it _isn't_," he says.

"Then just tell me how else you know! You were talking about signs earlier so you must know something!"

"How do you know we were discussing the signs? You were asleep," Thor says.

"Just because my eyes weren't open doesn't mean I was asleep," I mutter.

"My first suspicion was when you, er, _appeared_ on the railing in the tower when I was showing you around the castle," he says.

"So I teleported?" My hands begin to grow numb. I relax my fists, but it doesn't help.

Thor nods.

I nod.

"Okay," I say weakly. "Is there anything else?"

"When we were in my mother's sitting room, you shocked me," Loki says.

"Static?" I suggest, even though I'm one hundred and ten percent sure it's not because—

"I flew into a sofa," he says, frowning at me.

—because _that_.

"Is that all?" My head has started spinning and I feel like everything is slowly tipping to the left.

"There is one more thing," Eir says. I grip the blankets and squeeze them until my knuckles turn white. "When you were first brought here—" I stare at a wrinkle in the covers "—I gave you medicine to begin healing your wounds. Normally, it would take a week at least for a mortal to show results. You, however, responded after being here for no more than a day and a half."

I open my mouth to speak but I can't say anything around the lump forming in my throat.

"You would not have been able to heal that quickly without magic. Even Asgardians who do not possess magic take at least two days to heal."

I lean forward, holding my head, my elbows digging into my legs. I'm going to be sick or I'm going to faint or I'm going to scream.

In my peripheral vision, I see Loki stand, motion to Thor and walk out of earshot. They talk in hushed whispers for a few minutes, then Eir goes over, leaving me at the bed alone. As the three of them talk, I take deep breaths trying to steady myself.

_Okay_, I think, _okay. I have magic, but what do I do?_

_It's not so bad, right? It hasn't hurt me. It _did_ fling Loki back but in my defense he deserved it._

_It's not so bad...but what do I do?_

When you grow up reading books like Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings, magic is this thing that every kid wants, even though they can never have it. When Harry was brought into the Wizarding World, he had Hagrid to help him; Frodo and Sam and Pippin and Merry had Gandalf. All the main characters who get tossed into worlds or situations they don't expect ultimately have a mentor of some kind. I get slammed into Norse mythology and I get a Loki. He hasn't been much help.

Someone places their hand on my shoulder and I look up to see Thor standing next to me.

"Freya, are you well?" he asks.

I shrug. "Eh."

"Loki wishes to speak with you...in private. Are you well enough for me to leave you alone with him?" He looks at me with concern in his blue eyes.

"Eh," I repeat.

He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, Thor, I'll be fine," I say, grinning.

He shakes his head. "Eir and I will be back shortly. I am going to fetch my mother and father. They must be informed of what has happened." Thor takes my hand and kisses it, then follows Eir out of the room.

When the door has clicked shut, Loki walks over to the window that's next to my bed and gazes out. I sit up and clear my throat, "Well?"

"Well what?" he asks, not looking at me.

"Well you wanted to talk to me." I lean against my pillow. "So...spill it."

"In Odin's name, you are _testy_, aren't you?"

"_Testy?_ You said you wanted to talk to me, I'm kinda in shock, and every second feels like a millennia, but I am really _very_ sorry if I'm being impatient."

Loki sighs like talking to me is a chore. Then he pulls his chair to the head of the bed, sits down and looks at me, exasperated.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I say. "Did you _want_ to keep looking out the window?"

He shakes his head and briefly pinches the bridge of his nose. "You still think this a mere jest."

I scowl at him. "No, I—"

"You do. If you have forgotten, a small quantity of my magic has been returned to me and it is enough to be able to read your feelings."

"But I believe you."

"Do you?"

"I know you aren't lying."

"Yes, but that is not the same as believing." Loki stares at me, searching my eyes, trying to find something with the limited magic he possesses. "Tell me your doubts."

"Couldn't Malekith have just transferred some magic over to me through all those needles? It seems like a pretty big coincidence that I have magic after all that he did to me but there were no signs before."

"Were there truly no signs before?"

There was this one time when I was eight. I was playing bloody murder with some friends in the backyard and I kept hearing scary noises. I kept wishing I had a flashlight and then when it sounded like the scary noises were coming closer to me, I wished harder than I had before. It felt like something knocked against my leg and in my pants pocket was a small LED flashlight I didn't remember grabbing.

"So there were signs," Loki says, smirking.

"Not really!" I cry a little too forcefully. "I could've just put the flashlight in my pocket."

This just makes his grin grow wider.

"Malekith just gave me magic," I say. "I never really had it. I'm just a human girl." Then Malekith's words from when I was captured float back to me: _Because you're special, at least I think you are._

"Nonononono," I whisper and drop my head into my hands. "I am _not_ special!"

Malekith was right, or at least he _made_ himself right.

"He _gave_ it to me," I say, trying to convince Loki, trying to convince myself.

"You keep insisting on this but it is not true," Loki says.

I look at him. "But he must've?" I say it as a question but I still know I'm lying to myself.

"It would be impossible. Malekith may have triggered the magic within you, but he certainly did not give it to you. Magic cannot be transferred from one being to another, it can be brought to the surface _only if_ it is already within you." Loki smiles at me. "It is as much a part of you as is your stubbornness to deny it."

I close my eyes and rub them, little fireworks erupting behind my eyelids.

"But," he continues, "I honestly do not understand why you are taking this to be such a burden."

"Shut up," I whisper.

"Really, once you learn to control it, it is a gift. I—"

"Loki." I look at him. "Shut. Up. Or I'll shock you again."

"Will you?"

"No, but I'm more than capable of punching you," I say, staring him down.

"And I am more than capable of squeezing the life out of you."

"Will you?" I ask.

He sits back in his chair, his face completely unreadable. "No."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Just then the door bangs open and Odin walks in, followed closely by Frigga and Thor. Loki, still sitting in the chair, pushes himself away from me and stands. I sit up more, trying to look respectful in the Allfather's presence (though I don't think looking respectful will redeem myself in the King's eyes...er, eye).

The Queen smiles at me. "Freya, how are you?"

"Better, thank you." I glance at Loki but he doesn't look at me.

"I am happy to hear that," she says, following my gaze to Loki.

The door opens again and Eir walks in. She nods to Odin.

"Thor informed us of what happened," he says. "Does she truly have magic?" He eyes me.

"Yes," Eir, Thor and Loki say simultaneously. I look at each of them and try not to laugh.

The healer catches my half-hidden grin and tries to hide hers as she opens her mouth to speak, but stops when the door opens for a third time. Lifa peaks her head in and a little boy appears in the doorway.

"Hal, no. Stay with me!" Lifa whispers. Hal stares from the Allmother to the Allfather to Thor. When his eyes land on Loki, he gasps and disappears behind Lifa's skirt.

"Allfather, my apologies," she says, walking fully into the room, Hal clinging to her dress. She curtsies and keeps her head bowed. "I meant no disre—"

"It is quite alright," Frigga says. Lifa looks at her. "What brings you here, child?"

"Thor saw me in the halls and told me Freya had gotten hurt. I wished to see if she is well." She looks at me.

"I'm fine—"

"She is," Odin says, cutting me off.

I blow air threw my lips as I try not to roll my eyes.

"Now go, we are discussing something of great importance."

Lifa curtsies, thanks no one and everyone, grabs Hal's hand and rushes out of the room.

"I'll come see you when I'm out!" I call but the King has already closed the door. This time I can't hide my eye roll.

Odin regards me cooly before he turns to Loki, "I had decided to send you back to your cell."

"You _what?_" the god hisses.

"Do not speak, I have not finished. I _had_ decided to send you back to your cell but because of these recent events, I have since changed my mind. You will be allowed to remain out of your cell if you help teach Freya how to control her magic. You are still required to be in her presence during the day and you will also be guarded at night."

Loki looks offended. "Why can't Frigga—"

"Because this is your punishment."

I look offended.

"And because you are already required to be by her side. You should be happy; I am allowing you to keep the limited magic I have returned."

"I am _her_ guardian now?" Loki asks.

"No, she is still watching over you, but now you both have duties to one another."

"Is that supposed to ease any misgivings I may have?"

"Loki, my decision is final. I want to hear nothing more of this." Odin looks at me, nods, then turns and leaves.

Frigga smiles at me, wishes me well, gives each of her sons a hug then follows her husband out of the room. Loki, Thor, Eir and I are left to look at one another.

"Ah," I croon. "Do you have misgivings about being my teacher?"

Loki gives me a pointed look.

"So you're not gonna help me control my magic?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes and sighs. "I will help you if it means staying out of confinement," he says. Then he sits, opens the book he had been reading before and angrily stares at the page.

He isn't Gandalf or Hagrid, but maybe Loki isn't quite as bad as I thought.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Boy, was I wrong.

"Try again." Loki paces back and forth behind me, walking from one end of the garden's courtyard to the other.

I blow air out through puffed cheeks then focus on zapping the leaf I'm holding. I stare at it, narrow my eyes, focus harder but it stays just as green and unsinged as before.

There has been no sign of magic since the branch fell on my head a few days ago. Since then I've tried using the electricity I can apparently produce to throw a rock; it didn't work. And I tried for practically the whole day with no break. Loki also told me to try to light a tree on fire. I told him I would definitely not try to light a tree on fire so he walked away, muttering something about how pointless these lessons were and how incompetent I am. I didn't practice that day.

I sigh, and twirl the stem between my fingers. "It's not working."

"Try _again_."

"I've already tried fifty times and nothing's happened!" I say, spinning to face him.

"I do not care," he says, his hands clasped behind his back as he stares at me. "Try harder."

"I _have_ been trying! I've been trying for the last four days!" I cry. "I haven't been able to go see Lifa because I_ have been trying_. But it's not working!"

Loki purses his lips.

"And how would it?" I continue. "The only times I've ever done anything magical were on accident, so how the hell am I supposed to know what to do? Do I just wave my arms and say bibbity-bobbity-boo, then _bang_ you're thrown clear to Jotunheim?"

"It would be wise to watch your tongue," he says coldly.

"Why? What'll you do? You already said you wouldn't strangle me," I say, a little too self-confident.

"I did, indeed, say that." He takes a step toward me and, before I have a chance to get away, wraps his hand around my throat. But he doesn't squeeze. Instead he pushes my chin up with his thumb, making me look him in the eyes; they twinkle with amusement. "But do remember, I am the God of Lies so I seldom keep my promises."

Then he squeezes my neck for just a moment to show me what he means, and lets go.

I stumble back, my heart racing.

"Now try again," he says, his voice steely. "You can stop once something happens."

I straighten, about to say something, but decide against it. I don't really want to be threatened again. Or strangled. Or threatened _then_ strangled.

Turning back around, I hold the leaf a little ways out in front of me. Like before, I stare at it and focus. I stand like that for what seems like an hour but was probably only five minutes or so, then I shift and spread my legs out shoulder width. I stare at it for five more minutes without anything happening.

The only times anything happened were when I wanted something. When I thought it would be cool to fly, when I wanted Loki to let go of my hand, when I was angry because I wanted—still want—to go home. Maybe my magic comes the easiest when I'm angry? I shouldn't count on anger to fuel it; I've seen too many movies and read too many books where that was proven to be a bad idea. Maybe just once though...just to see if it works...like a science experiment.

_If I am angry, then my magic will come._

"Well?" Loki asks.

"Shut up, Loki."

"Are you even trying?"

"Shut up."

"You do not _look_ like you are trying. What in Asgard's name are you doing?"

"Loki. Shut up." I stare at the leaf.

"Perhaps, if you had known you possessed magic when Malekith took you, you would have been able to save yourself. Perhaps—"

"Loki," I say. "Just shut up!" Suddenly, warmth floods into my finger tips and there's a flash of light. Electricity zips across the leaf's surface and then all I'm holding is a charred stem.

I gasp and turn, holding it out for Loki to see. He looks smug, his arms crossed over his chest. I copy his stance.

"You did that on purpose," I say. "You could tell what I was thinking."

He grins. "I do not know what you are referring to."

"Right."

"You may go now, if you wish."

I drop the stem.

"You have to come with me," I say.

"I know."

As I walk past him, headed toward the path leading back to my room, I realize I hadn't been _that_ annoyed or angry. Not really.

...

The next morning, I wake up from a dream where I could control the elements. A nice change from my other dreams.

I sit up, yawning, then swing myself out of bed and walk over to the closet. As I'm opening the door to go in and change, someone knocks.

I hurry over to the other door and open it. Lifa smiles at me and Hal peeks his head around her leg.

"Hello, Freya," she says.

"Hi. Perfect timing, I actually just woke up." I open the door wider to let them in.

"My mother and father are not home for the duration of the day and my brothers are...somewhere...so I have to watch him today." Lifa motions to Hal who is goggling at my room. "I hope you do not mind."

"No, not at all!" I say, crouching down to look at her brother. "Hi, Hal."

He looks at me, eyes wide, then ducks behind Lifa.

"Hal, say hello to Lady Freya. That is not very polite of you." Lifa pulls him in front of her. I try to stifle a laugh as he tries to hold on to the back of her skirt. "Just say hello, then you may play with some toys if you wish."

"Hello, Lady Freya."

"Hello. You can play with your toys over there if you want," I say, pointing to the two chairs by the fireplace. The little boy nods, waits for Lifa to say it's all right, then rushes over.

"He's not usually this shy," Lifa says, apologetically.

I shrug. "I'll be right out. I just gotta change." I begin to walk back over to the closet, but stop when I remember someone I'm forgetting. "And then I should probably get Loki now so he's not too ticked off later."

"I have been curious about something."

I step into the closet and close the door. Lifa walks closer so we can still talk.

"Loki has had his magic returned, yes?" she calls.

"Yeah, er, most of it anyway. Why?" _Dress or tunic?_

"If he was given his magic back, would he not be able to teleport through his bedroom door?"

I pause in the middle of pulling a sleeveless lavender dress off its hanger.

"I don't—I dunno," I call. "He was only given a little of it back—he told me it wasn't enough to be able to read my mind fully—so maybe it's not enough to be able to teleport? Maybe?"

Taking off my 'pajamas', I pull on the dress. It flows down to just above my ankles and ripples when I walk over to pick out a pair of flats.

Once I've changed, I open the door.

"You have a very good point," I say. "I'll ask him when I go get him."

"You do not have to if it would risk your safety," she says.

"It won't, I don't think..." But then again one can never tell what will set him off. "I'll go get him right now."

I pick the key up from my nightstand and open my door and cross over to his. After knocking lightly, I wait. There's a muffled groan and some shuffling, then an exasperated, "Yes?"

"Uh... Do you want to come out?"

A heavy sigh follows my question. I take this as a yes and unlock the door.

A half-awake, fully dressed Loki opens it.

"I see you are bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning."

"I will never understand your peculiar Midgardian sayings." He rubs his eyes, stifling a yawn.

"Do you want me to come back later so you can sleep for...the rest of the day?"

"No." He steps around me and walks through my open bedroom door.

"Ooookay." I close the door and hurry into my room before anything bad can happen.

When I enter, Loki is sitting on the sofa flipping through a book, and Hal and Lifa sit by the fireplace, Lifa in a chair and Hal playing by her feet. I walk over to them and sit in the other chair.

"So," Lifa starts, looking briefly at Loki. "You truly have magic?"

"Yeah," I say, watching Hal roll a wooden wheeled horse across the floor. He crawls over the marble, making small neighing noises.

"That is very odd, is it not?" She eyes Hal as he begins to crawl farther away. "Did you know this before you came to Asgard?"

"No, not really. I guess there were some signs but none that couldn't be explained by something." I look over at Hal just in time for him to push his horse across the floor toward Loki's foot. "Lifa, your brother—"

Lifa whips her head around then stands. "Hal, come back here! What are you doing?"

He looks over his shoulder at her. "I'm playing. His foot is a mountain for the horse."

"No, it is not. Loki does not want you to pretend his foot is a mountain." All the blood has rushed from her face and she's trying not to let her voice shake. "So please come back and play over here."

Hal frowns then rolls his horse over Loki's foot. Loki stares at him. Hal raises his head to look at the God of Mischief and squeaks, then rushes back over to us.

"What did I tell you?" Lifa cries. Despite his fear, Hal responds with a giggle and sits to play with his horse some more.

I look over at Loki and he looks back, glances at Hal sitting on the floor, shakes his head and goes back to reading his book.

"You have been misbehaving all day. I am bringing you to mother so she can hear of everything you have been doing." He looks up at her, more terrified now than he was being confronted by Loki.

Suddenly, he springs up. "Do not tell mother!" he says. "Please!"

"You didn't listen to me," Lifa answers.

"Lifa, I promise not to do it again."

"Really?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Yes! And it was only a joke! He didn't mind it too much! It didn't hurt him or anything."

Lifa sighs, places her hand on his shoulder, and begins to lead him out. The last thing I hear before the door swings shut is Hal whimpering, "But he's wearing _green_, Lifa!"

I laugh and glance at Loki, catching the end of what might have been a little smile.

Looking back at the fire, I stare at an unburnt log that sits on the edge of the embers. _Catch on fire._ Nothing—I continue to glare at it. _Move_!

Still nothing.

I point my finger at it and swish my hand through the air as I whisper, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Again nothing happens.

"Win-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa!"

"What are you doing?"

I look back at Loki. "Nothing. I was just...uh...trying to move the log. It's just a spell from a book series."

"Is it from the novel with the..._Hobbits_?"

"No, it's from a different series."

"Ah." He looks like he wants to ask me something but keeps his mouth shut.

"Do you want to read more?" I ask, smiling.

"Er, yes."

"Okay." I stand and walk over to my bag hanging from the hook on the wall and fish around inside for the book. I pick it up and turn. "Now, be careful," I say, walking over to Loki with the book clutched to my chest. "It's precious..._my_ precious."

"Yes, of course. May I have it now?"

My reference goes right over his head, but not for long.

I hand it to him.

"Where did you stop before?" He fans through the pages and I notice how he glances away when he reaches a part he knows he hasn't read yet.

"I don't really know. I read a lot and was half asleep." I let out a short laugh. "I dog-eared the page, though."

Loki looks at me, bewildered. "_What_?"

"Never mind, just give it to me." I sit down on the edge of the sofa, accidentally sitting on his leg. I look at him. "Sorry." Then I flip through the pages until I find one with a creased corner. I skim over the words, nod and hold the book out.

He takes it and his thumb brushes my finger.

"Where did you leave off?"

I point to the paragraph, looking at him for just a moment before I stand. "Well, I'm just going to draw, enjoy."

I pick my sketchbook and pencil up from the nightstand, and return to the chair by the fire. I feel eyes on me but when I turn around, Loki's reading.

Opening my sketch book to a clean page, I look around for something to draw. On a table is a vase with an odd looking flower in it, so I begin to draw that. The petals are shaped like long, misshapen hearts and some of them form a cup. It looks like a cross between a snap dragon, a daffodil and a lily.

About an hour later, I'm jolted from my drawing by Loki slapping the book closed.

"It is time we resume your practice."

I look at him. "Did you finish?"

He nods.

"You are a fast reader."

"Yes, I am. Now let us go," he says and swings his legs to the floor.

...

I frown at the leaf in my hand. Loki decided, _again_, that a good exercise would be to burn more leaves and so far I've only singed two. Which, I guess, you could say is a good start even though I have only been singeing them because I'm mildly pissed that this is all I'm doing.

"How many more leaves do I have to singe for this to be over?" I ask, not turning to look at Loki who has been sitting and staring out over the hillside.

He had led me to a completely different part of the garden this time. Today I stand on a hill that leads to a field full of bright yellow, blue and pink wild flowers.

"How many have you singed?" he asks.

"Two."

"Then, if I remember correctly, that would mean forty-eight more."

I groan. "If I was doing this on earth, I could be convicted for arson or something. Or being a pyromaniac."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, arson is when you set fire to things on purpose, usually for personal gain, and being a pyromaniac means you just like setting things on fire." I crumple the leaf and let it drop to the ground. "I'm done."

"No—"

"_Yes_. I don't want to singe any more leaves. I've only singed two the whole time we've been here and the only reason I've managed _that_ is because I'm annoyed about burning freaking leaves for hours." I walk over and sit down, leaning against a tree trunk. Loki sits against his own tree trunk a little ways away.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" he asks, looking at me. He doesn't look mad; he doesn't sound mad. He just looks overly tired.

"Why are you so tired?"

"I...could not sleep well last night."

"Why?"

"I do not have to explain myself to you, mortal." He goes back to watching the hillside.

I sigh, and turn my attention out over the hillside as well. The flower covered field leads to the edge of some smaller buildings, obviously part of the castle due to their shininess. To the right, the field leads to a cliff and just beyond the cliff I can make out the sea that falls over the edge of Asgard and into nothing.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, then I get up, pull a giant leaf off a tree and poke two holes in it. I rip a small strip from another section then hold it up to my face and look out the two holes.

When I look at Loki, he's already staring at me.

"Hello," I say through the leaf mask.

He covers his face with his hands and I think I catch a fleeting smile.

He drops his hands and rests his arms on his bent knees. "I honestly do not see what you are trying to accomplish."

I place the leaf in my lap, smiling down at it. _I just accomplished it_, I think. "Nothing," I say. "So I was wondering earlier, how do you stay in your room? Can't you just teleport out of it?"

Loki looks at me and shimmers, almost completely disappearing only to reappear in the same exact spot.

"Oh."

"Just as I do not possess enough magic to read your thoughts, I do not possess enough magic to teleport even a short distance." He watches me for a moment. "What else have you been wondering?"

"Nothing, really. It's just...if you guys exist, Norse gods I mean, then do others? Like the Greek gods and Roman gods and Egyptian gods?"

Loki smirks. "Are you not satisfied knowing some gods exist? I would have thought that to be enough for one Midgardian mind to handle."

I should have known he would find some way to insult me. "My _Midgardian mind_ can barely handle being in Asgard," I mutter. "I just thought that if anyone knew about other gods, it would be a god."

"I suppose they _could_, though they would have to exist outside of the nine realms," he says, no trace of annoyance in his voice (to my surprise). "Which would be very unlikely," he adds quickly.

I begin to pull apart the leaf mask.

"I have a question for you," he says after a moment's hesitation.

"Shoot," I say without looking up.

"In...what was it...the Fellowship of the Ring?" He looks at me. I nod. "In that book, there were the creatures known as the Nazgûl."

"Yes. They were called Ring Wraiths too. I actually read somewhere that J.R.R. Tolkien, the author, based them off of a Draugr and that a Draugr is pretty much the Nordic version of a zombie. But, I mean, those can't be real."

"That is what I was going to ask you, in fact," he says. "Though I must inform you that they do exist."

"What?" I feel my face go pale. "No."

He nods, grinning, amused by my fear.

I look around, out over the hill, in the trees.

"_Here_?" I unintentionally draw closer to him.

Loki wrinkles his nose. "Here? No. Of course not. We would not allow such wretched creatures here. No."

"Good," I murmur. "Then where?"

"They have not been seen for hundreds of years, so do not fret. If there are any, they most likely inhabit the darkest corners of Hell." He looks at me for a second. "Why are you so close?"

"Oh, I, uh." I sit up and scoot back over to my tree trunk. Then I clasp my hands together and, as sarcastically as I can, I say, "If anyone could save me from nasty zombie creatures, it would be you."

"If you knew how to use your magic then you would not _need_ to be saved," he says, standing. "Now I suggest you get up before I experiment with the limited magic I have."

"Touché," I whisper as I scramble to my feet. I pick up a leaf and am about to try to catch it on fire when Loki knocks it out of my hands.

"You are not doing that. I agree, it is pointless." He paces back and forth in front of me.

"So...what am I going to do?"

"Patience," he murmurs.

"_You're_ telling _me_ to be patient."

He stops, only three inches away from me. I look up, only now realizing just how much he towers over me.

"I am telling you to be patient," he whispers. "And it would be in your best interest not to test _mine_."

I nod frantically and he resumes pacing.

"I was thinking about what you said yesterday," he says.

"Okay."

"What I have decided is this: you must learn how it feels to use magic before trying to use it. You must learn the process it takes for magic to ignite inside you." He stops and faces me. "Once you have learned this, magic will come much more easily to you."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to concentrate. Close your eyes and focus your attention."

I wait for him to say more.

"Well?" he asks. "Close your eyes."

"Oh, sorry." I close my eyes and stand there. Part of me realizes that he could seriously hurt me right now if he wanted to—I'm vulnerable, I can't see. However, I don't think he will. "Soooo...now what?"

"Stand right there."

"Loki, I have my eyes closed. Where's 'right there'?"

Feeling his hands on my shoulders, I stiffen, but all he does is lead me to where I think is the crest of the hill. He lets go but continues to stand behind me.

"Now focus."

"What am I focusing on?"

"There are two main sources of magic. Your mind—" I feel him poke the back of my head. "—and your heart." He touches the center of my back. "I want you to focus your magic in your chest." He jabs me with the tips of his fingers. "When you do this, you will have more control. So far, your magic has only come when you are distressed. That is good when it is needed, but if you rely on your emotions alone it will exhaust you."

I nod. He drops his hand.

"Now. _Focus_."

I stand there, feeling Loki's eyes on the back of my neck, and try to remember where I felt the magic coming from the last few times. He's right, of course. Now that I think about it, my head did feel a little light. I kept brushing it off as annoyance.

"What—"

"_Focus_."

"I have a question."

He sighs and I ignore it.

"What does it feel like—what _should_ it feel like when I focus my magic other places besides my mind?"

"I imagine it is different for everyone."

Well, that's not helpful.

"Thank you," I mutter.

Should I just try breathing exercises or something? Your lungs are in your chest. I guess it'd be better than just standing here. I begin to take deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. I try to be as aware as I can, picturing the oxygen running through my veins and into my heart.

Then something weird happens. Instead of picturing the oxygen, it seems like I can feel it. A small flower of warmth begins to blossom in my chest. When I think to move it to my fingers, the warmth grows and spreads into my arms.

I let out a small gasp.

Loki, realizing something is happening, moves closer. He touches my back again, right over the warm spot. "Focus here," he murmurs.

The warmth inches closer to my wrists then into my hands and I feel that familiar tingling in my finger tips. I hold it there, keeping my breathing even, despite my excitement.

"Freya," Loki whispers, "open your eyes."

I open them and look down at my cupped hands (I don't remember moving them). There, hovering an inch or two away from my palms, is a small, glowing ball of light.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," I whisper. "I'm doing it! Oh my god!"

"Shh. Do not let it go."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him hold out his hand. He places it below mine, holding my cupped hands in his long fingers.

I can't tell if he's helping me hold on to it, or if he's trying not to touch it like I am. All I know is that the little light I created gets brighter.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Is this a custom in your realm?" Loki asks.

I jump a little when he talks. I'd been in my closet looking for a dress to wear to dinner for a while and until now, he hasn't said anything. Frankly, I'm just surprised he hasn't decided to leave.

"Is what a custom?" I call back.

"Taking an eternity to choose a garment of clothing."

"No."

He sighs so loudly I can hear it through the shut closet doors.

"You know," I say before he can continue, "I probably should have locked you in your room right now."

"Why should you have done that?"

"Because I'm supposed to be watching you, and with a door in the way, it makes it kind of hard." I pull out a red dress, trying to decide if it's appropriate for an Asgardian meal in the presence of the King and Queen.

"My dear, there is one way to tell." I can hear the grin in his voice

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Well, if I stopped talking for example..." He trails off and silence follows.

I look at the door for a second, but go back to looking through dresses while I wait for him to say he's joking. However, he doesn't say anything and I don't hear any noise coming from my room at all.

Slowly, I stop moving around and wait with my breath held for him to make a sound. I never heard the door open or close—it's a quiet door though. I stand motionless and silent for a moment longer,3 then hang the dress I'm holding back up and walk over to the door.

"You did _not—_" I swing the door open, looking frantically around my room before groaning when I spot Loki lounging next to a roaring fire that he must have started when I was in my closet.

"Then it would make you very panicked, indeed," he finishes. "My, my. You are _quite_ easy to trick."

"And you are _quite_ an ass," I mutter before backing into the closet and slamming the door to cut off Loki's annoying chuckles.

Once again, I look through the dresses. About ten minutes and ten annoyed Loki comments later, I have narrowed down my search to two dresses; one red and one gold.

I open the door again.

"Finally!" Loki cries, standing. "I was beginning to think— why are you not dressed?"

"I can't decide." I hold the dresses up.

"Yes?" he says. "_And?_"

"And...which do you think?"

"Which _dress?_"

I nod.

"Why do you need my opinion?"

"Because I do. I don't know which one to choose and you've lived here your whole life."

"Where is your little servant girl...Lira?"

"Her name is _Lifa_ and she isn't my servant. She just helps me because, if you've forgotten, I am from _Earth_. I told her I could do it myself tonight but apparently I still don't know much about Asgardian culture or what's appropriate for dinner with your mother and father, so it would be nice if you'd help. So, which dress? Red or gold?" I hold them up and glare at him from between the skirts.

He regards me for a moment, hands clasped behind his back and head cocked to one side, the light illuminating his cheekbones. I shake the dresses at him, raising my eyebrows.

He rolls his eyes. "Red."

"_Thank you_." I spin on my heel and march back into my closet, pulling the door closed with my foot.

I hang the gold dress back up and take off my tunic and pants, then pull the dress over my head. I pick out some shorter heels then walk back out.

"Are you quite done?"

"Yes."

"Then we must be off. The Allfather does not like to be kept waiting." Loki's eyes flash and I get the sense we are going to keep the Allfather waiting. He turns and together we walk out the door and down the hall.

"Loki?"

"Yes?" he answers. We come to a staircase and he seems to almost glide down it.

"Where are we going?"

"To the Dining Hall, where else?" As he says this, we turn away from the hallway leading to where everyone is waiting and go down another set of stairs.

"Seriously, Loki, didn't we have to keep walking that way?" I motion at the hall.

"Yes," he says, smiling.

Nerves flip my stomach and turn it into a stormy sea. "Where are we going," I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking, but failing. _Where is he taking me?_

He chuckles. "You shall see."

"O-okay..."

"And you needn't be so nervous," he mutters, continuing on. "I am not leading you to your doom."

"Thanks for the reassurance," I squeak.

"Please refrain from making that noise again."

_Well, sorry my scared voice is annoying, but I do kinda have a reason to be nervous,_ I think.

He turns slightly and I know he caught some of my thoughts, even if it was just a feeling of it.

"You still do not trust me?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Mmm," he murmurs.

"I didn't."

"I know." He laughs a little.

"What's so funny?"

He doesn't answer as we walk down one more flight of stairs then turn a corner. As soon as we do, we enter a hallway with walls covered in different colored rays of light. I look up to find the source and my mouth drops. Above us, the ceiling rises a good 10 to 15 feet above my head. In front of us, where the hallway must end or turn, is a giant stained glass window.

Because of all my goggling, I don't see the stairs until Loki's arm flies out to catch me before I tumble down them.

"Careful," he mutters. He moves his arm once I've regained my balance then places his hand on my back until I've gone down a few steps.

When I get to the bottom, there is a set of large wooden doors. I reach for the handle but Loki grabs my shoulder.

"No," he says.

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "First tell me what was so funny."

"Close your eyes and then I will tell you.

"You're asking me to do this a lot around you," I say, frowning before hesitantly closing my eyes, ready to open them if anything happens.

"What I find so amusing," he says close to my ear—I stiffen—"is that you so often seem to mistrust me, yet simultaneously prove me wrong."

I really don't know how to respond to this, so I stand in silence, trying to think something to say.

I hear one of the doors swing open and warm air instantly hits my face. Loki takes my wrist and I stiffen again, but he does it gently so I find myself relaxing a little.

"Like now," he murmurs almost imperceptibly.

He pulls me through the doors and everything grows brighter. Another door opens and we go through that too, and now I'm greeted with the scents of flowers and fruit.

"Open your eyes," Loki says, his already light grip loosening even more.

I do.

All around, growing in the bright, warm light, are flowers and trees and other plants. Some red- and orange-leafed bushes grow here and there, popping up through all the green plants, adding to the rainbow already created by the flowers. On some of the trees grow more flowers and on others grow all different types of fruit. Some look like pears, some like mini watermelons and some look like bright pink plumbs. We stand on a cobblestone pathway and I follow it with my eyes until it turns out of sight. Above us, unnaturally colored light catches my eye and I look up. Then I realize we're still inside; we've just entered a green house that is inside a giant circular tower.

On the walls of this tower are plants that creep and spiral around metal cables strung from one side to the other. Flowers from some of these climbing plants hang a few feet from the cables, and some of the vines have attached to other cables, making a web of leaves and stems.

Also on the walls are windows. Most are filled with regular glass, but here and there the glass is colored red, or blue, or pink or orange. Some of the windows far above my head have no glass at all and birds fly freely through one and out the other. I crane my neck farther yet and see where all the sunlight is really coming through; the domed roof of the tower is made entirely of glass.

"Wow," I breath. "It's so beautiful, oh my gods. Everything's so pretty..." I look at Loki. My stomach does a flip and I feel a twinge of nerves.

He's watching me but when I meet his gaze he blinks and looks away. He's still holding my wrist, so, smiling a little, I slide my hand between his fingers. I give his hand a brief squeeze, then step away quickly, catching his eyes on me. I begin down the cobble path, knotting my fingers together and pressing them against my stomach.

Why did he bring me here?

I look around at all the flowers and plants surrounding me. The path splits, only to connect again after circling a small patch of flowers whose petals look light gem stones.

Behind me, Loki's footsteps follow, clicking quietly on the stones and stopping now and then.

I come to a legitimate fork in the path and take a right. It leads to a small bridge that arches over a stream. The water gurgles under me and away toward a small hole in the tower wall just visible behind water lilies and cattails.

A few more minutes of walking brings me to a large archway that opens to a courtyard with a beautiful view of the sea. I walk out and sit on a golden bench on the edge of a hill, staring out at the water.

"I suppose," Loki says from behind me a while later, making me jump, "we should go to dinner."

I turn. Now he looks nervous. I raise my eyebrows at him. "What's wrong?"

He gives me a look that says I should know.

"Just behave and it'll be fine," I say, getting up.

He laughs humorlessly, following me into the tower.

...

Loki opens the door to the dining hall and instantly chairs scrape across the floor. We make our way to the table. Odin is standing and glaring at us furiously; Frigga and Thor are standing too, but they look more concerned than anything else.

"I am very sorry," Loki starts, "but Freya demanded a tour of the castle and I could not sway her otherwise."

"You're playing that card again, are you?" I ask, remembering the exchange in the Throne Room after I let him out and he dragged his feet the whole way; _Must I really wait after you so eagerly pulled me here?_

"Both of you, sit," the Allfather says loudly.

Loki grins at me, then walks over to sit next to his mother and I take a seat next to Thor and Fandral.

"Do not fret, m'lady," Fandral murmurs, the smell of alcohol wafting off his breath. "_I_ do not believe it to be your fault."

"Thank you," I whisper.

The food is served and everyone begins to eat and talk. Except Loki. He just listens as Frigga speaks with him, nodding occasionally.

A while later, after listening to Thor and Fandral talk about sparring—and me asking when I can go to the armory again and Fandral graciously offering to take me right now, I feel eyes on me. I look up to see Loki watching me. We make eye contact for a full thirty seconds before he looks away.

"How are your lessons going?" Thor asks, now that Fandral has turned his attention to Hogun.

"Okay, I guess," I say, shrugging and taking a bite of food.

"That bad?"

I smile a little. "I don't know. I _did_ singe some leaves—on purpose—and produced a tiny ball of light in my hands."

He looks impressed. "That is a start, is it not?"

I nod, feeling weirdly embarrassed.

"I would enjoy your showing me. Only if you desire, of course."

"Sometime I will. And maybe you can teach me more fighting techniques."

"It would be my pleasure. You caught on very quickly, considering it was your first time."

"Thanks." I spear a veggie. "I always knew I was a natural born swordswoman."

Thor laughs.

"With enough practice, you may even become as good as me," Sif says from across the table.

"Probably not," I say, my cheeks heating up. I haven't had this much attention from so many gods since that time I told them I was a vegetarian.

"Thor told me much about your first practice," she says, smiling. "And we will never truly know unless you try. Perhaps I could join you one day soon and show you all the tricks that Thor forgets."

"Thank you," I say, glancing at Thor, who is frowning at Sif.

"What is it, Thor?" she asks, laughing.

"Perhaps when you come to train Lady Freya, we shall have a sparring match, Lady Sif." He grins.

"Perhaps we shall," she says, smiling. Then she turns back to Volstagg and they begin to laugh and talk again.

"Oh," Thor says a moment later. "I have been meaning to ask."

"Hm?" I ask through a mouthful of bread.

"How is my brother?"

I look at Loki. He is now talking to Frigga.

"He hasn't strangled me or anything, if that's what you mean."

Thor looks relieved. "So he is treating you well enough?"

I nod. "He's been helping me in his own way, I guess. But he has been helping. Though he isn't the best teacher I've ever had, he's surprisingly patient."

"I am glad." Thor takes a bite of his food. "I have been wanting to come see you both, to check everything, but my father has been keeping me busy with meetings and errands."

"That's alright. Loki's been keeping me busy, so there's been no time for anything but magic practice."

"I am very happy to hear he has been more helpful than I thought he would be. Now on to other matters. I may be able to bring you to the armory either tomorrow or—"

"I do not believe it," Fandral mutters scornfully.

I look at him. "Don't believe what?"

"Has he forced you to say this?"

I stare at him, frowning. "What? Who?" I ask. "I seriously have no idea—"

"Has _he—_" Fandral points at Loki "—really been helpful or has he forced you to say these things? I am _merely_ concerned for your safety, Lady Freya." He touches my hand. "You must understand."

"I'm sure you are," I say, sliding my fingers out from under his palm. "But I still don't really know what you are talking about."

"Has he messed with your mind?" Fandral draws closer to me and looks at my eyes.

I pull away, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of his breath. He's had _far_ too much to drink.

"No."

"Are you positive?" he asks, placing his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and glance at Loki, who is rubbing his eyes and looking like he is trying hard not to do something violent.

As I say, "Yes," Fandral continues.

"Though, if he had, I am sure you would not know. He could have easily made you his mindless slave and you would not be aware of any of it."

"Fandral. Hold your tongue," Sif says.

"He has done it before, Lady Sif. Are you truly trying to defend he who betrayed us?" Fandral cries, standing. "He has done so much harm! He does not deserve your sympathy!"

Sif stands. "I, as well as Thor, persuaded the Allfather to let him out and so far he has done nothing tremendously wrong!"

"Thank you for your optimism," Loki mutters.

Now it's my turn to rub my eyes.

Sif glares at him before continuing. "As of yet there has been no reason he should—"

"As of yet! But what will we do when he gets bored? When he decides that he no longer feels like behaving?"

Thor slams his fist on the table making everyone but Odin and Loki jump. He stands. "Cease this arguing!" he bellows. "And Fandral, for Valhalla's sake, stop _talking!_" He sits, followed by Sif.

"I was only trying—"

"Yes and that is very kind of you. However," Odin says, "do not start this while we are eating."

Through all of this I have been staring at my food. I want to say something, something to prove that Loki didn't brainwash me, something to— I drop my fork and it clatters against my almost empty metal plate. Everyone looks at me.

"Let me just reassure Fandral, then maybe we can all go back to eating." I clear my throat. "Loki has done nothing but teach me magic. At worst he has threatened me," I look at him. He rolls his eyes and I push down my flare of annoyance. "_But_, he has never acted on any of them. He's taught me about magic, we've talked and that's it." I turn to Fandral. "Are you _happy?_"

"You are very trusting _very_ quickly."

I just stare at him, Loki's comment on my trust/mistrust running through my head.

Fandral continues, "It would seem he has turned you into _quite_ the loyal dog."

_Did he just—?_

The god raises his hand to caress my cheek as he opens his mouth to speak, but I swat it away.

"Right now," I say, standing, the backs of my eyes stinging and my cheeks burning, "I trust him more than you. _Far more_."

I push my chair back and it tips, clattering to the ground. I walk towards the door. Behind me, I hear Fandral nonchalantly say something about a 'plaything,' then all the chairs scrape across the floor.

"She is not my _plaything_," Loki says, his voice a furious hiss, "and she has certainly done nothing to warrant your insults!"

"Volstagg, Hogun, please escort Fandral to his chambers," I hear Odin say before the door slams shut. "He should never have joined us in this state."

I walk a little ways down the corridor before I lean against the wall and slide to the floor. Hot, angry tears flood my vision and I cover my mouth with my hand to try to hold in my sobs, hugging myself with my other arm.

I hear the door swing open and shut and hug myself tighter, wishing I had worn the gold dress so maybe I'd blend in with the wall and no one would bother me. Then I feel arms wrap around me and Thor pulls me against him in a big bear hug.

"I am very, very sorry, Freya," he whispers.

I turn and bury my face in his cloak.

"Fandral is not usually like this."

I nod into his chest.

"I believe he is angry; that mixed with too much drink is never good."

I nod again.

"But that is still no excuse for his actions."

The door opens a second time and I look up to see Volstagg emerge, followed by Hogun and then Fandral. When they pass, Volstagg murmurs an apology. Hogun nods at me and Fandral opens his mouth to say something. He appears embarrassed and apologetic when he looks at me, but Thor shakes his head so the gods move on.

A moment after Fandral disappears around a corner, the door opens again, but this time it crashes against the wall. Loki storms out, his face completely blank.

When he reaches us he looks down at me. "Take me back to my room."

"O-okay." Thor helps me up. "What about din—"

"I am not hungry," he spits. "That fool made me lose my appetite."

"Alright then," I mutter.

"Are you going to be alright, Freya?" Thor asks.

I nod. "I think so." I smile at Thor, then follow Loki down the hall.

We walk in the usual silence until he suddenly comes to a stop.

"Th—" He closes his eyes. "Thank you."

I stare at him, unable to say anything.

"Thank you," he says, louder this time. "For what you...em...said..."

"I should be thanking you, I—"

"No!" Loki turns and stares intensely into my eyes, taking me by the shoulders. "Fandral is an imbecile for saying such things. Do not listen to any of it."

He glances at his hands and releases me. I give him a small nod. He looks at me for a split second longer then continues down the hall, looking slightly less upset.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Zzzzt. "Fifteen," zzzzt, "sixteen," zzzzt, "seventeen," zzzzt, "eighteen," zzzzt, "nineteen," zzzzt, "twenty." I drop the last leaf stem on the ground, turn to Loki with a bow. "Twenty leaves, singed and zapped."

"Wonderful," he says, his voice emotionless.

"Okay, you're bored."

"No, I applaud you, really."

"No, you're bored."

"Well, it isn't very fun watching you burn leaves."

"It isn't very fun burning leaves." Though I have to admit, it was fun being able to control my magic enough to burn the leaves in under thirty minutes.

"You are lying."

"No, I'm not," I say, trying to hide my smile.

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"Besides the fact that you are grinning?"

I smile wider, Loki sighs.

"I suppose that is enough for today," he shifts. "Has the light ever returned?"

"I haven't really tried."

"Then try now."

"But you said—"

"Try. Now." He stares at me until I turn away.

I close my eyes, cupping my hands together. I focus on my chest, but after a few minutes of me standing there the warmth hasn't returned.

I drop my hands.

"I did not say to stop."

"It's not working, and I'm not just saying that because I want to stop. I don't feel any magic and I think it's because I'm tired."

I walk over and sit down, my back against a tree, this time facing the castle and the staircase leading up to my room.

"Then be done."

"You look tired, too."

"Freya, I am in no mood for your useless chatter."

"Oookay..." I mutter. "Then let's talk about something un-useless."

"Why?"

"Because Thor was going to bring me to the armory and now he can't. Lifa's busy, Sif is with Thor, Frigga told us she has some errands to attend to. Heimdall is involved in those errands and so is the Bifrost, and I am still not invited to know about it. And I don't really want to hang out with your dad."

"Nor do I."

"Sooooo," I say, rolling my head against the bark to look up at him. "What...uh..._dances_ do you do in Asgard?"

He looks at me with a face that says: _of all the things you could have picked..._ "What?"

"You know. Dances." I hold my arms like I'm about to waltz and sway a little. "What kinds?"

"With all of the topics in the Nine Realms, you chose dancing?"

"That is the topic I chose. I assumed you would have extensive knowledge on the subject."

Loki laughs a little. "Unfortunately, I do not."

"Oh, c'mon. I list some dances that you can easily say yes or no to. Do you mambo, tango, Macarena?"

"I do not know what any of those words mean."

"So those are all no's."

"I suppose."

"Do you guys have the electric slide?"

"The _what?_"

"The electric slide."

"I have no idea what that is either."

"So another no," I say, laughing.

He rolls his eyes.

"But you have to know some, right?" He doesn't answer me so I turn away and look to my left, where I can see into the courtyard surrounded by shops; it had been covered in snow the night before the Bifrost didn't open. Through the small entrance way, I can see people walking across the cobblestones. I sigh and turn back to Loki. "Do you _waltz?_"

He sighs too, but his is much more annoyed. "_Yes_, I suppose we do _waltz_. Would you like me to demonstrate?" The question drips with sarcasm.

"Uh..._yes!_" _Obviously_.

"I was not being serious."

"I know, but you offered, so..." I motion away from me, at the clear grassy area in front of me. "Go ahead."

He pinches his nose.

"Do you need a partner?" I ask, smiling.

"Yes, he does." We both look up to see Frigga walking towards us from the small break in the shops I was looking at before.

Loki groans.

"If you are going to teach her, Loki, it would be best to do it with a second person," she says.

Loki stands. "If I were going to teach her, I would need a partner; but I am not."

"Well, I think it would be an enjoyable activity, and I am going to need your help."

The God of Mischief looks from his mother to me and back again, standing with his normal posture but still managing to look extremely uncomfortable.

"Now first," Frigga starts, "stand like so." She places one hand on Loki's shoulder then takes his hand with the other. "Then the steps are as so..." She walks forward a step, then to the side then somehow they end up going a different direction. It was such a small movement, I couldn't catch it. I just nod, like I understand what's going on.

Frigga and Loki spin around the grass for a few minutes until a guard appears from a path through the trees.

"My Queen, the Allfather wishes to speak with you."

Frigga stops dancing, and nods at him. "Thank you, Lidolv. I will be there in a moment."

The guard nods in return and walks back down the path.

"Now, Freya, you and Loki practice and I will come back later to see your progress." She kisses Loki's cheek, says goodbye to me and walks back toward the shops.

Once she is out of sight, Loki turns to me. "I would like to return to my room."

"No, we're going to practice." I scramble up.

"Must we?"

"Yes. I didn't understand any of that."

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Because it does, Loki." He stares at me. "_Please?_"

He sighs. "Come here, then, if you wish to learn."

I give a small cheer and walk over to him.

"So," I say, "your mom said I put one hand here," I place my left hand on his shoulder, "and then I—" I cut off and motion for him to take my hand.

"Apparently you understood some of it." He takes my hand.

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Now lock your elbow."

I hold it as still as I can.

"Lock it."

"It _is_ locked."

"No."

"_Yes_."

He uses his free hand and whacks me. Sure enough my elbow buckles a little.

"No," he repeats firmly.

I roll my eyes.

"Now." Loki shifts, looking awkward. "_Your_ right foot moves forward, but make it a short step." He looks down and I follow his gaze and move my right foot like he says. "Now the left follows and pick up your right foot, but as you do, turn."

I do, and step on his foot. He shakes his head.

"It should be a slight shuffle-step, I suppose you would call it, with your right. And—Freya!" I step on his foot again.

"Sorry!"

"Let me just try..." He trails off. "Just try to follow what I do. I will go very slowly."

"Okay, if you think that's the best way."

"Of course it is." When I look at him, there's a small smile on his face.

"Right," I mutter.

He looks at me, smiling wider. "You do not believe me."

"No, no. Go ahead. If you're ready to get all your toes broken then sure. Go ahead."

Loki chuckles.

"You think I'm joking."

He begins to move in a very waltz-like manner, but stops. "Music would make this much easier."

"Hold on a minute." I let go of his hand, duck under his arm, then run up the stairs to my room. The realization that I left him alone hits me, but before I can worry too much, I've grabbed my phone and am now running back down the steps.

"What are you—"

"This!" I say, waving my phone at him.

"What is that?" he asks, looking at the device suspiciously.

"This is my phone. And it has music on it."

"On it?"

"In it."

"In it?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"iTunes."

"What?"

I wave my hand at him. "Shh."

Turning on my phone, I click the music app and scroll through my songs. Not finding one, I finally just go to a slow dance playlist I made for a school dance in tenth grade that I never deleted. I select the first song on the playlist and turn up the volume. I then place my phone on a rock and look at Loki.

"How is it playing music?"

"I really don't know..." I say.

He stands there staring at the device.

"So do you wanna try dancing to this, or should I find another one?"

"Well, I am not accustomed to dancing to songs containing words...but I suppose this will suffice." He purses his lips for a moment before walking over to me. "Now do as I have shown you."

I hesitantly place my hand on his shoulder.

"Nervous?" he murmurs. He takes my hand and I feel his shaking. I ignore it.

"No." _Yes_. I focus on my feet and at the edge of my peripheral vision I see him watching me with an expression that could possibly be considered soft. Possibly.

When he begins to move, I jump a little and stumble.

"Stop looking at your feet. That will only inhibit your movements."

"Okay, then what do I focus on?"

"I suppose you could try closing your eyes."

I frown at him. "Is this going to be an ongoing joke between us?"

"Perhaps." A smile enters his eyes as he continues to spin me around the grass. Then I realize that I haven't tripped since I stopped looking at my feet. I gasp and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, "See?"

I nod, smiling.

The song speeds up a little.

"Let us try going a bit faster." He hesitates for just a moment, then pulls me a little closer, probably to keep from having to repeatedly pull me with him.

Because I'm so close, I have to slide my hand a little further up his shoulder and bend my elbow. But, because he's so tall, this is uncomfortable.

I look up at him and see that he is still watching me. I smile a little, feeling my cheeks heat up. I look back down and place my forehead against the leather of his jacket to see if it helps the tingles that have begun to run down my arm. It does and slowly, with some minor shaking of fingers, they disperse.

As we spin around the grass in small spirals, Loki moves the hand he placed on my hip onto my back. The song slows down again but he doesn't move away from me. Something inside me does a little flip, but right at that moment the song ends.

A split second later, he steps away from me with a sharp intake of breath.

"I am going to my room."

He walks past me and, without a second glance, ascends the staircase, and disappears.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_I stand, looking out over a burning village. The fires that have nearly destroyed everything send purplish black clouds of smoke billowing over the collapsed shops, houses and other buildings. Beneath my feet is scorched earth, and the remnants of what could once have been plants and trees. I do not know what village this is. I do not know why it's burning. I do not know how I got here. I do not know what part I have played, but I do know that I helped cause this destruction._

_Someone wails and I turn to see a woman sitting amidst the rubble and charcoal of her home. She clutches a sobbing young boy to her chest. When she sees me looking at her, her eyes widen and a look of sheer terror appears on her face._

_I take a step closer and she shrieks and shrinks away, pulling her child closer. I try to ask her calmly. I try to ask it in a way that makes her unafraid. But instead: "Where am I?" I demand, taken slightly aback by how harsh and odd my voice sounds. "What is going on?!"_

_"Please do not hurt my child! Please do not hurt me! Please!" she pleads. Her words are almost a scream and they come out garbled through her crying and her son's wailing sobs._

_"I am not going to!" I say, still too loudly, still too angrily. I do not want to hurt you, I promise I won't, is what I tried to say. I take another step closer._

_"Please!" This time her voice is a scream and it rips at the end. "Do not! Please do not!" She keeps screaming this over and over and over until it's the only thing I can hear._

_But then there's another voice._

_"Oh, please do," Malekith says. His voice comes from behind me. Directly behind me like he's speaking into my ear. His hand touches my shoulder. It is my turn to scream._

_I spin, still screaming, but no one is there. Nothing is there but a pool of water seeping from some hidden source and growing bigger, bigger. Black, oily water that shines and glistens like metal in the light of the flames. Then it reaches my feet and when it touches them, it sticks to my boots._

_I stumble back, the black holding onto the toes of my shoes. Then something or someone pushes me in the opposite direction and I fall forward onto my chest. All the air leaves me and I lie there panting and gasping desperately for breath. When I can, I push myself onto my hands and knees. I look back but nothing is there. Everything behind me has disappeared in the clouds of black and purple smoke._

_Looking back at the black water, I freeze. Through the ripples, I see a pale white face staring back at me with black holes for eyes. I raise my hand and touch my cheek. The creature raises its hand and does the same. Cold dread seeps down my back with I realize._

_It is a Dark Elf's mask._

_And I am wearing it._

I wake up screaming, my throat completely raw.

A second passes and the scream dies, ripping at the end like the woman's in my dream, leaving me empty. Uncurling my fists and my body, I sit up, shaking and sweaty, with tears streaming down my cheeks. _My_ cheeks. I touch my face, relieved when I feel skin instead of a hard mask. I start to cry again and pull my legs to my chest. I don't have much crying left in me, so I mostly just shudder, feeling extremely dehydrated.

Finally I look around my room. Every shadow pops out at me and whispers _'Oh, please do.'_ The sheets and blankets have been kicked clean off the bed and my pillows lie in a heap on the floor.

I scoot over to the edge of the bed and stand. My legs wobble as I walk over to the fire place. As quickly as I can, I get the fire going and get all the lights on. Then I go to the window and pull a curtain aside.

Outside it's still dark, but the large planet gives off light, illuminating my room like early morning. I decide to open my curtains, hoping that the little bit of natural light will help chase away the terror and dread that still sit in my mind and stomach.

I lean my head against the window; it's refreshingly cool and soothes my forehead. I take a breath and let it out, standing up straighter. I take another breath, my heart still pounding, and let it out.

Facing my room again, I spot The Lord of the Rings on the edge of a bookshelf. After picking it up, I go back over to my bed, set it on the mattress, then go about getting all the sheets, blankets and pillows back on the bed. I crawl under the covers and open my book.

There will be no more sleeping for me tonight.

...

Loki's angry "Try again!" echoes over and over through my throbbing head. Or is he actually repeating it? I can't tell.

I press my fingertips to my temples, crunching the leaf, which is significantly unburnt, in my hand as I do. When I drop my hands, the banging sensation comes back harder than it was before.

"Try again," Loki repeats from where he stands behind me.

"I don't want to."

"What?" he asks, his voice steely.

"I said," I say, turning to face him, "I don't want to, _Loki_."

"Is there something _wrong?_" he asks. "Because I do not understand why you are having such difficulties producing anything. Or why you have such an attitude this morning."

_Is there something wrong with _you_?_ I want to ask but keep my mouth shut instead. Ever since Loki disappeared after the dancing lessons, he's been acting extremely cool and detached. In the past few days, he's given me as quick a lesson as possible, then asked to turn in for the night before I can even start a conversation.

"What is it?" he asks. His whole 'reading thoughts/feelings' thing is really annoying.

"Nothing," I say.

"You want something. What is it?" he demands, coming closer.

"I want to— you know what? Never mind." I rub my eyes, stifling a yawn. I know I'm mostly irritable because of my lack of sleep and that dream still swirling in the back of my mind, but Loki isn't helping anything.

"What? Ask me, if you are so curious."

"I thought you said curiosity does little to suit me," I mutter.

He rolls his eyes. "Freya, I do not understand what has you so upset."

"You don't understand—? I can't leave, Loki!" I cry, rubbing my face and running my hands through my hair.

He sighs, pinching his nose. "I know, Freya—"

"And you were supposed to have enough magic to open the Bifrost—"

"So you are blaming me for your predicament?" His eyes flash angrily. "If I could have opened it, I would have, if only to rid myself of you." As soon as he finishes the sentence, something like regret passes over his face but then it's gone, replaced with a flood of red eyes.

A ball forms in my throat, but I speak around it. "I'm sorry I'm such a burden for you, but I never asked to be picked up by Malekith and dropped here. He took me because he thought I could help him find something. Then he _tortured_ me when I couldn't give him the information he wanted. So I'm sorry if my being irritable is annoying, but at least _I_ have a reason to be."

"And what do you mean by that, may I ask?" His red eyes stare into me and I feel the same cold dread from my dream seep down my spine. He takes a step toward me. "I'm waiting." Blue has reached his cheeks and I see the raised markings beginning to appear.

"Um—"

He slams me against a tree trunk, his hand pressed against my collar bone. In my peripheral vision, I see blue trickling down his slightly exposed wrist toward his hand.

I swallow some of my annoyance and stare him in the eye. "I just meant that...if there is something wrong, you can tell me."

The blue inches over the back of his hand and my skin slowly grows cold.

"I just meant that you can tell me," I repeat and for the first time this morning, I don't feel irritated at all.

Loki and I stare at each other, the blue slowly seeping over the top of his hand and his eyes glistening a little. Suddenly he takes his hand away from my skin, and I see the blue receding down the underside of his wrist. He backs away from me, and I crumple to the ground and rest my head against the tree as I knot my fingers in my skirts.

When I blink, the tears I had been bottling up finally fall. I sit there with my eyes closed, half shocked I have enough water in me to cry and half just really wanting to lie down and sleep for a couple days.

"Do you wish to know why my attempt to reopen the Bifrost failed?" Loki asks quietly.

I open my eyes and see that his skin has become normal colored and that he is watching me. I nod.

He doesn't say anything as he rolls up his sleeve, exposing the metal disk. Holding out his arm to me, he taps it. "This. Odin did not return all of my magic to me and because he did not, I am all but powerless."

"Oh..."

"Freya, if I do open the Bifrost," he says, "and you _do_ go home, mortals will not be able to protect you from Malekith. He will see that you have left the security of our realm and he _will_ come for you." He watches me carefully, observing my reaction to his words, and probably all of my thoughts about the subject as well. "So, Freya, do you truly wish to leave?"

I shrug a little but say nothing.

"Well, take this horrible device off my arm so that I may open the Bifrost. Then you will have enough time to decide what it is you want."

"Take it off?"

"That is what I said."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"But shouldn't I wait till we're at the Bi—"

"If you take it off now, we will be able to get there much faster." Loki walks toward me and comes to a stop a little ways away.

"Okay," I say, getting up. I take Loki's arm in my hands and touch my finger to the center of the disk. It makes a whirring noise then a small click and falls to the ground. I lean over to pick it up, but right before I can, Loki stomps on it. From the cracking I hear from under his boot, I'm guessing he shattered it.

"Loki!" I cry, straightening. "You just—" I stop when I see his face. Most of the tiredness has left him and the dark circles around his eyes have faded. He's also smiling, genuinely smiling, eyes closed, head turned up to the sky like he just walked outside for the first time in years.

He looks at me, still grinning, and says, "Ready to go?" And, before I have a chance to say anything, he wraps his hand around my wrist and everything goes black.

I scream and it seems to echo through the nothingness, coming back to me louder and louder until it disappears. My stomach churns and seems to rise into my chest. It's the feeling you get when you fall, except it feels like we're floating or standing on clouds.

"Loki?" I shriek, feeling for his hand that's still wrapped around my arm.

His laughing answers me, sounding like it's coming from the other end of a gigantic room, and I feel him place his other hand on my arm.

"You will get used to it over time, my dear," he says. Then there's a stretching sensation that pulls my feet down onto firm ground, then my legs follow, then my torso and then we're standing on the Rainbow Bridge about twenty yards from the Bifrost.

I pull away from him, creeping towards the edge of the Rainbow Bridge just in case my stomach decides to show itself.

"Did we just teleport?" I ask as I shake out my legs and arms.

"Yes."

"Does it feel like that every time?" My stomach lurches and I press my hand to my mouth.

"Yes, but it is generally faster than that," he says, grinning at me. "I wanted you to get the full effect so I hovered for a bit."

"Thank you for that," I mutter and thrust my head over the side of the Bridge just before I lose all the food I have eaten.

When I'm done throwing up, I straighten and turn to Loki, who looks slightly disgusted.

"This is your fault you know," I say, crossing my arms. "Er...can you by any chance magic me a glass of water?"

Loki sighs, flicks his hand, and a metal cup full to the brim with water appears at my feet. I pick it up and for a second I contemplate the chances that it's poisoned, then decide to drink it just to get the taste of bile out of my mouth and throat. The water isn't poisoned, and once I've finished it, we start toward the Bifrost and Heimdall, who stands watching us, holding his golden sword in front of him.

As we get closer, the Seer walks to meet us.

"Freya, you have returned Loki's magic to him," he says, looking at me with his gold eyes.

I had forgotten about Heimdall guarding the Bifrost. I glance at Loki to try to ask, 'What should we do now?' but he looks calm as the god faces him.

"What do you wish to accomplish, Loki?"

Loki smirks. "I believe you already know."

"You will fail."

"I am opening it and you cannot stop me."

"Perhaps not, but, unlike the last time you came here against the Allfather's will, you have no powerful device at your disposal."

"Heimdall," Loki says, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward, "will you try to stop me?"

"Go ahead," Heimdall says as he holds out the sword and steps aside. "But heed my warning."

Loki smiles, takes the blade and strolls past.

"He is walking to his doom," Heimdall murmurs, looking at me.

I stare at him. "What?" I whisper.

"What he is about to do will likely be fatal."

"_What?_" I cry. I look at Loki who is walking toward the pedestal in the center of the room. "Loki, wait!"

I run in after him and as soon as I enter, I feel my hair stand on end. The air all around us seems to crackle with electricity and when I look at the walls, I see it zipping over the metal. I stare up at the ceiling, still walking forward. In the center of the ceiling, there is a point of electricity that shines and crackles more than the rest of the room. More and more electricity gathers. A ball of lightning is forming directly over the pedestal.

I look back at Loki. "Stop! It-it's not safe, it's—"

"I am truly _touched_ you are so worried, Freya, really." He places the sword in it's slot.

"Loki, seriously, _don't_. There's magic everywhere and—" The crackling intensifies and now I can actually hear it zipping through the air.

He raises the sword a little, closes his eyes, then slams the sword down. There's a blinding flash of light, a bang, and I am thrown against the floor. Sliding a little ways, my back smacks into the wall and I lie there with my eyes closed, hearing nothing but a loud ringing.

I shift a while later and blink, trying to get rid of the dots floating in my vision. The ringing finally disappears. I get up slowly, looking around as I do. Heimdall is no longer standing in the doorway. Now he is kneeling on the ground a little ways away from the entrance, clutching his helmetless head. Loki isn't on the pedestal.

"Loki?" I call, starting toward the center of the room. "Oh my god!" He's lying on the floor, visible energy running over and through him, convulsing.

I start running, slip a little on the metal floor, then fall to my knees near the god's head. I watch helplessly as his body writhes and more electricity dances over him, looking like a small storm.

_What do I do what do I do what do I do?_

He convulses more violently than before and his head comes within an inch of smashing into the wall. If he get's any closer, and flails more, he could seriously hurt himself. I have to hold his head and that means touching him and having all that energy running through me too... I've never touched lightning before, but it will undoubtedly hurt.

"Okay," I say as I take a breath and extend my arms. I stop mere inches away from his head. My fingers tingle a little. "Okay." If I'm going to do it I have to do it now. Just before another series of convulsions can wrack his body, I reach forward and places my hands on either side of his head.

Instantly, energy begins to course through my finger tips and up my arms. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth as it makes its way into my shoulders and congregates at the base of my neck, forming a ball like the one that was on the ceiling. Then the ball shoots up into my head and smashes into the top of my skull. I scream as the sensation of cracking grows and grows. More and more energy fills my head, running up my arms, swirling through my shoulders. My scream grows.

But, just as I think I can't take the pressure building in my brain any longer, it shoots out the top of my head—leaving it in tact—and disappears, leaving only the new energy to run through me and out; I'm like a conducting wire and it feels _extremely_ weird. An eternity of this rushing feeling seems to pass and still electricity is zipping into Loki then into me and out my head.

When it suddenly stops, I sit there, frozen, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I'm still holding Loki's head but it feels like he's stopped moving. Slowly, I open my eyes and look at him. He has stopped convulsing and I don't see any more electricity anywhere.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I let go of his head. "Loki," I say. There's no response and he just lies there with his eyes closed. "Loki?"

I crawl around to look at him right side up.

"Loki, can you hear me?" Nothing. "Loki, C'mon! Wake up!"

Hesitantly, I reach forward and press two fingers against his neck.

_There's no pulse._

"Nonononono, shit!" I hold my hand over his partially opened mouth, hoping to feel some air coming out. I don't. "_Shit!_" I repeat.

Does this mean I need to do CPR? Does CPR even _work_ on gods? I don't know. I don't know.

"I don't know!" I cry, wiping away tears and looking around. Heimdall is making his way over to the entrance way. I guess he doesn't feel like helping.

_I don't know I don't know CPR or magic or—what? I don't know I don't know what to do I don't know!_

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something flicker across his chest. When I look, I see electricity I had missed swirling over the center of his chest.

I take a breath and hold it for a split second as I place my hand over the electricity. The energy zips into my hand, up my arm and out my head and right when it disappears, something big crashes against the Rainbow Bridge outside. I ignore it and pull back my arm, staring at him and waiting.

Loki's eyes fly open and he gasps, sitting bold upright. Coughing, he leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees and hangs his head between his legs.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He lifts his head and looks at me.

"What do you think, Freya?" he says, his voice hoarse. "Having uncountable amounts of energy running through you can make one very _not_ alright."

"Thank god," I mutter. And before I can think twice about what I'm about to do, I pull him into a hug. For a minute, Loki sits there not doing anything, his shoulder pressed against my chest, then he shifts and I feel him wrap one arm gingerly around my waist, like he doesn't know what he's doing either.

"For Valhalla's sake, girl, let me recover more before you decide to jerk me with no warning."

I sniffle. "I'm sorry."

"A-are you crying?" he murmurs.

"Yes." My voice quavers and I laugh a little.

Loki laughs too, but his is sadder. "I do not deserve this sentiment or your worry," he whispers.

I hug him a little tighter. "Loki, shut up." I feel him smile against my ear.

Outside the Bifrost, there's some more banging and then a weird grinding sound as something opens. Someone hops down from something and then—

"Uh, hi. Yeah, excuse me," says an unfamiliar voice.

I sit back and look at the entrance to the Bifrost. Heimdall is standing there, looking at a man who is wearing a long, dark reddish brown leather jacket (what is it with extraterrestrials wearing leather?) and a weird Storm Trooper-esque mask.

Loki and I exchange a look then I get up. I hold a hand out to him, but he waves me off and gets up on his own. We walk closer to Heimdall and the stranger and when we near, I can hear what they are talking about.

"Yeah, but could you just give me some coordinates?" the guy says. He presses a finger to the side of his helmet and just like that, it disappears. "That was probably making it hard to hear. Coordinates?"

"I heard you clearly," Heimdall says, "but I do not know what you mean."

"Coordinates?" I ask, coming to a stop next to the Seer. "Why do you need coordinates?"

The man turns to me. "You know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes...but you haven't answered my question." Then something hits me. "Wait, how the hell did you get here?"

"I crash landed." He points to a spaceship that is sitting on the Rainbow Bridge. _That's_ what made the loud noise earlier.

"Okay, sure, but _how?_ The Bifrost's not working."

"I don't know what that is, but I flew in over this gold ball thing." He motions to the Bifrost.

I look at Heimdall. "I thought the only way in was through the Bifrost."

He shakes his head. "Beings can enter Asgard if they are near by simply flying in. The Bifrost is for traveling between realms."

"Oh, then why didn't Malekith just come in through the sky?"

"When he came here with you, he was traveling from Svartalfheim."

"But why didn't he come back and just fly in?"

"An electric field completely encircled Asgard," he says, "not just the Bifrost."

"What? Why didn't anyone tell me this?"

"What did you think they were discussing at the meetings you were not invited to?" Loki asks, smirking.

"Well, I assumed they were about the Bifrost, but it's not like I could have guessed everything was covered in a giant electric shield!" I say, glaring at him.

I look back at Heimdall. "So it's gone now?"

The god nods.

"Loki was successful, then?"

"Partially." He looks like he's about to say more, but the stranger interrupts.

"Can I just ask where I _am_ in the universe? Because it'd be really helpful for me when I need a lift out of this place." He looks at us. "Or whenever my ship gets fixed."

Heimdall is the first to speak. "You are in Asgard, home to the gods."

"Ooookay," the man says. "You're going to need to give me more than that."

"Asgard is one of the Nine Realms. Also one of these Nine is the Realm of Midgard, where you are from."

I gasp.

"I'm _still_ gonna need more."

"What more can I give you?"

"Uh..."

"You could give _us_ your name," I say.

"You could tell me where I am."

"He just did... But we also aren't the one's who randomly crash landed a giant spaceship outside the front door."

He sighs. "My name is Peter Quill," he says it like we should know who he is. "But," he continues after seeing our faces, "there is another name you might know me by." Then his face get's serious. "Star Lord."

Loki and I stare at him and Heimdall wears his normal unamused face. Peter Quill looks annoyed.

"C'mon guys, _Star Lord?_" He looks at us expectantly. "Nothing?"


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Okay, I just have to ask," Peter Quill says as we walk down the hall leading to the Council Room, "are these handcuffs really necessary?" He shifts his wrists uncomfortably in the shackles that Thor has clamped on them.

"Yes." Thor looks back at the two of us.

"Why? I wasn't doing anything super suspicious."

"Crashing your flying vessel unannounced in our realm should not be considered suspicious?" Loki asks, coming to stand between Peter and me.

"Hey, man, if it was up to me," Peter says, awkwardly touching his chest, "I would have landed her nicely, possibly on some grass or something."

"Why are you here anyway?" I ask.

He looks at me, grinning slightly. "Yes, that. I have an answer for that, a perfectly logical answer."

I narrow my eyes. "And...what is it?"

"Well, apparently there's something here, or near here, that I'm supposed to retrieve—a relic or something. That's why I needed coordinates."

"Who are you retrieving this relic for?" Loki asks.

"A Broker..." Peter trails off, staring as we pass a giant golden archway. "I guess," he continues once we've passed, "it's very valuable. He wants to sell it."

I exchange a look with Loki. "What is it exactly?"

"I was told it was a rock."

"You're here looking for a rock?" I ask.

"You make my work sound insignificant," he says, laughing.

"That wasn't my intention," I say. "I'm sure it's a very interesting rock."

"Well, maybe you could help m—"

"Freya," Loki says suddenly, grabbing my arm and making me jump. He pulls me to a stop.

"What? You scared me."

"My apologies," he says, looking at me, head cocked and brows furrowed.

"Uh, what's...what's wrong?" I ask, trying to quell the nervous feeling in my stomach; he generally has a reason for looking at me weirdly.

He opens his mouth, then closes it.

"Loki, are you alright?" I step closer. "What's wrong?"

"I am fine, but you— Do you feel completely well?" he asks.

"Yes."

"You are sure you do not feel strange in any way?"

"Maybe a little light headed and shaky but other than that, I'm fine," I say.

"I do not understand," Loki murmurs.

I frown. "What do you not under—"

"Loki, Lady Freya, I am sorry to break up your conversation," Thor calls, "but the Allfather has requested our presence immediately."

"Yes, of course. We are just coming." Loki passes me, muttering something I can't catch.

...

Thor pushes open the doors to the Grand Council Room—the same doors I went through when I tried to convince Odin to free Loki—and the four of us come face to face with the entire Council of Asgard, seated around a table. At the table's head is Odin, and to his left is Frigga. To his right is an empty chair I assume is Thor's; next to this chair sits Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. The remainder of the chairs are filled by men and women I have never seen before. I note, with annoyance, that there are no more empty seats: Loki and I are not a part of this.

I puff air through my lips and cross my arms. Then there's a hand on my back.

"Do not express your concerns," Loki whispers. "Not here."

"Concerns is an understatement," I hiss back, shifting my weight to my right foot. I hear him chuckle.

"Thank you, Thor." The Allfather stands and nods to his son who, after gently squeezing my shoulder, walks over to the empty seat next to his father. They speak for a moment before finally sitting.

"Who are you, Midgardian?" Odin asks, eyeing Peter. "And what business have you in Asgard?"

"Uh," Peter says, scanning all the people who stare at him, "my name is Peter Quill and I've been sent to look for a relic that's supposed to be here."

"A relic?" Frigga asks. "What relic?"

"I was told it was a...er...a valuable rock. A guy in Xandar wants to pay good money for it. That's all I know."

"What or where is Xandar?" Odin asks.

"It's the capital of the Nova Empire."

"The Nova Empire?"

"Yeah."

"Heimdall will know what it is, Father," Thor says.

"Yes, and perhaps he will be able to send you there, if that is your home," the Allfather says, looking back at Peter.

"I don't live there, that's just where a lot of my business comes from—business as in selling stuff I've found, not anything—" He clears his throat. "I generally live on my ship."

"Of course. And how did you and your ship come here?" Odin glances at me and Loki, and I can tell our interrogation is imminent.

"I just flew in."

"If you would please be more specific..."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Well...I was following coordinates and I didn't really notice anything until my controls started getting whacky. I couldn't really control my ship and it got stuck moving pretty fast and I was hurtling towards something that looked like..." he trails off, brows furrowed, thinking of what to say next. "I was hurtling towards a translucent spherical wall that seemed to be barely visible but...was."

"Why do you say wall?"

"Since it was transparent, I could kinda see it had a thickness. It looked like it was more than just a flat surface."

"What could you see inside?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"No, nothing. It just looked like normal space, but I could tell something was there."

"Something that had thickness, was spherical and what you described to be a wall."

"Yes."

"But it somehow looked like normal space?"

"This isn't fair," I whisper, crossing my arms.

"What isn't fair?" Loki asks.

"Odin's pretty much cross-examining him," I mutter. "It's like he's in court or something."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, never mind. It's Midgardian talk."

"When I looked directly at it, it wasn't there, but out of the corner of my eye I could see it," Peter says.

"Ah," Odin says, nodding like his explanation is finally detailed enough. "Continue."

"Alright. So, then, as I got closer and closer, my controls really began to malfunction. Then, a loud crack came from the sphere thing and it was like the wall was being sucked in on itself and suddenly that golden ball thing was directly in front of me. I had just enough control to pull my ship up so I wouldn't crash nose-first but it was stilled totaled."

"Totaled?"

"As in completely broken."

I laugh a little and Peter raises his eyebrows at me.

"Thank you, Peter. Now," Odin rests his eye on Loki and me, "I would like to know how the field surrounding us disappeared."

Our time has come.

"I took the little disk off that prohibited Loki from using his magic," I blurt, jumping right in.

"You did what?" He stands, seeming to follow his voice as it echos up into the high ceiling. Everyone in the room visibly jumps.

I squeeze my hands into fists and bite the inside of my cheek for a moment before saying, "Loki said that he could open the Bifrost if he had all of his magic returned to him. He said that the reason it didn't work was because you only gave him a little bit the first time."

"And you believed what he told you?" he asks loudly.

"Yes."

"Why?!" This word echos up into the ceiling and back down, over and over again, growing louder each time until it dies away.

"B-because—" I glance at Loki who is watching his father. He briefly meets my gaze then stares directly ahead again. "Because it makes sense."

"How does it make sense, Freya?" Odin asks as he sits down again and clasps his hands on the table. "Tell me what sense it was you found in allowing Loki—he who murdered countless numbers of your people and led an army in the attempt to rule your realm—his full magical abilities."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Loki stiffen and clench his hands into fists. "Yes, I did believe him! And it was the right thing to do, because the Bifrost—and all of Asgard—is now free from what ever electrical barrier was formed around it."

"Yes, and now what do you expect to happen?" The Allfather glares at me, intently watching for my reaction. "Do you expect to leave? To go back to your life on Midgard and continue living in peace?"

I don't say anything.

"That, I can assure you, will not happen. Malekith will find you if you return to Earth. You will not be safe in your realm; you will not be safe anywhere but here."

I nod. "I know that," I say quietly.

Loki steps forward then. "May I say something?"

Odin turns his gaze to his son and I let out the breath his glare had been keeping in. "What is it, Loki?"

"You remember the information you so kindly forced out of me, yes?"

"Yes, I remember."

"And you also remember the meeting before my first attempt at freeing the Bifrost."

"Yes, I recall that as well."

"The relic this Midgardian is searching for may be what the Dark Elves desire. This could be why they want Freya."

"And I suppose you think this relic is a seventh Infinity Stone?" Fandral asks.

"The mortal did say it was a rock, did he not?"

"Yes, but a rock could imply anything."

"And it could very well be an Infinity Stone."

"There are only six," Fandral says.

"Yes, Fandral, you insist upon this yet, you do not strengthen your argument."

"The evidence hints to a valuable rock or gem hidden somewhere on Asgard. The evidence does not, however, prove there is a seventh Infinity Stone. If that were possible, Heimdall would have informed us of it by now, certainly."

"No one, not even the Seer, knows what they look like," Loki says, "so one may resemble a rock, valuable or invaluable."

"I have a question," Volstagg says. "How do we know this Amethyst isn't one of the six? Did you only assume it was a seventh?"

"And surely, if it looked like a rock, it would at least seem different than a normal rock, would it not?" says a man whom I have never met.

"Apparently not," another says. "If this Amethyst is an Infinity Stone, and if it is here on Asgard, it is doing an excellent job disguising itself."

"Is that not enough for it to even be a possibility to you, Fandral?" Loki asks.

"It may mean it's one of the six, but I still doubt there is a seventh."

"Can I ask something?" I say, raising my hand and waving a little. Everyone falls quiet and stares at me.

"What is it?" Odin asks.

"What exactly are Infinity Stones?"

"They are powerful entities that were created when the universe was first formed and possess abilities unique to themselves. We do not know where they are or what form they come in, but it is not unlikely it is them the Dark Elves are searching for."

I say nothing, waiting to see if he'll say more, but he doesn't.

"We believe—"

"Thor!" Odin snaps.

"She has a right to know, Father," Thor says. "We believe, based upon a brief glimpse Heimdall got of Svartalfheim after you were saved, that the Dark Elves are building a device to wield whatever it is the Amethyst may be."

"Is that what that meeting was about?" I cry.

Thor frowns. "What meeting?"

"That meeting you had to go to around the time I first got here. You were taking me on a tour and then Fandral or someone said that Heimdall found something and you all rushed off and you said you'd tell me about it. But you didn't."

"Yes, I suppose it—"

"This is a discussion for another time," Odin says, holding up his hand.

"It seems everything is a discussion for another time," Loki says.

"I will fully explain everything in detail at a later time, but right now I want you both to continue telling me what happened and how the electric field disappeared." He focuses on me. "Freya, please continue."

"O-okay," I say, pausing to remember where I left off. "So I took the disk off Loki, like I said..." I then explain the teleportation (leaving out my vomiting). I tell them about Heimdall's fatal warning and Loki's ignoring it, the explosion and what followed.

"Before, you said Loki was the one who freed Asgard from its electric confinement?" Frigga asks, staring at me intently.

"Yes."

She nods. "Can you please repeat what you just said?"

"About the crash?"

"Before that."

"Oh, sure...uh, I grabbed Loki's head because I thought he would smash into the wall and get hurt. And then all the electricity in him went into me and kinda exploded out the top of my head."

"How did you feel after having this much energy coursing through you?"

"Uh...fine, I guess?"

"Completely?" She furrows her brow and rests her chin on her clasped hands.

I glance at Loki. His face is entirely blank, but when he meets my gaze his eyes flash with amusement and the corner of his mouth tips up for a split second.

I look back at the Allmother. "Yes, apart from some minor dizziness and shakiness, I felt fine."

She nods again, murmurs something to Odin, then says, "You know that if it were not for you, my son would be dead."

"I—"

"You need not say anything, Freya." She smiles at me. "I am thanking you." She rests her gaze on Loki, whom I can see is staring at me. "That much energy would have killed him if you had not done what you did."

My stomach drops and I hear the blood pulsing in my ears. My whole body grows hot and I begin to sweat as what she says echos through my mind. That much energy would have killed him if you had not done what you did. That much energy would have killed him. It would have killed Loki, a god. But I feel fine.

I. Feel. Fine.

"Freya, are you alright?" Odin asks.

"Oh my god," I whisper, my voice coming out a quiet shriek. I turn to Loki who has come closer to me, sensing (or mind-reading) a change. "Oh—"

"Yes, yes. Good for you for figuring it out, but we have been asked to leave three times." He places his hand on my back and leads me, totally and completely stunned, out of the Council Room to where Peter is already waiting in the hall.

"T-that much energy would have killed you," I say, pointing at him with a shaking finger.

"Yes, it would have. If you had not been there." He removes his hand from my back and clasps both behind his.

"So how am I not dead!?" My voice is a squeak.

He chuckles.

"Loki, please!" My head swims.

"It would seem, my dear Freya," he says, his smile growing wider, "that you possess more magic than anyone originally thought."


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Loki watches me intently, waiting as I fumble through my thoughts for something to say. My breath begins to come in short gasps and I have to hold it for a moment before I can finally talk.

"So," I say, "you mean that I helped you get rid of the electric field?"

He nods. "Yes. That is precisely what I mean."

"Okay." I nod. My legs begin to shake and the world begins to tip a little. "Okay," I repeat, lowering myself to the ground. _Sit down sit down sit down sit down now or you will faint._

I sit there for a moment, staring at Loki's feet and trying not to hyperventilate as anxious thoughts whiz around my brain leaving no room for calming down. _How did I do that? How do I have that much magic? All I can do is burn a leaf. And I was just trying to save Loki. That's it. I wasn't trying to become a conducting wire. I just wanted Loki to...not **die**!_

Then my thoughts mesh together into one particular idea and my not-really-but-sort-of-controlled breathing unravels.

"L-Loki," I gasp, my voice barely a whisper. "I wasn't...I wasn't trying to do what I did so—" I break off and take a breath. It feels like everything inside me is quivering and making my lungs turn into raisins. "So...does that mean I'm...dangerous?" The last word is only half there but Loki hears it and a pained look crosses over his face.

"No, Freya." His voice matches the quietness of mine, but doesn't sound as strangled. "No, that does not mean you are dangerous."

_I just want normal. I just want normal!_

I nod again, the backs of my eyes burning. Pressing the heels of my hands against them, I watch the weird colors and swirls burst behind my eyelids. I cough and gag a little, feeling as if an invisible person is choking me.

"Freya," Loki says close to my head. I've leaned over, my arms on my crossed legs and my hands over my eyes. "Freya, you will faint. Take a breath."

I suck in a slow breath and with it I whisper, "I just want normal."

I feel someone's hand on my back; from the awkward pats I realize it's Peter. I should be touched that someone I just met is trying to make me feel better—he must be a nice guy. But I don't feel better. All I feel is overwhelmed and scared; and all I do is whisper the same four words over and over because, for some reason, the repetition is helping me breath. "I just want normal."

"Freya, are you breathing normally?" Loki pulls my hands away from my face and holds them; his fingers are so long that they completely enclose my hands and I stare at them and breath and try to hold myself together. "Freya?"

I don't look at him. Instead I focus more intensely on our hands: how his are warm and soft, how mine feel dry and crackly, how his hold mine still even though they are shaking uncontrollably.

"What are you whispering?" he asks.

I finally meet his gaze. "I...I just want normal."

He presses his lips together and shifts. He looks as if he wants to do and say something, _really_ do and say something. But then the moment passes and all he does is squeeze my hands, and all he says is, "I believe that your definition of normal has drastically changed."

I feel tears prick at the backs of my eyes but force them away with a short laugh.

"Yes," I murmur, "I suppose it has."

Loki squeezes my hands one more time before letting go and standing. He offers his hand to me and I take it. He pulls me up a little too fast and I fly against his chest.

"Yay, you leveled up," I say quietly.

"I really do not understand what you are referring to," he answers in the same tone.

"Video games. I'll show you sometime."

Peter Quill clears his throat. "Do you want me to leave, or..."

I jump and step back from Loki, apologizing under my breath. For a moment I'd forgotten all about him.

"No, Peter. Uh..." I look around and push down all of my overwhelmed feelings to deal with later. "How about we go for a walk."

"Freya, I would like to return to my room."

I look at Loki. "What?"

"My room."

"Oh, um, okay," I say. I turn to the guard who stands in front of the council room doors. He looks familiar and I fish for his name before speaking. "Lidolv! Yes, okay, we're going for a walk after I," I glance at Loki, "take Loki to his room."

"Yes, m'lady. I will inform the Allfather if he inquires. Where do you think you will be walking?"

"Maybe outside. By his ship just so I can take a look at it; it looked cool." _Anything to take my thoughts away from...everything._

Lidolv nods and I turn to find that Loki has already started down the hall.

"So," I say, kicking the pebble Peter and I have been dribbling down the path, "how's Earth?"

"Er...well, I haven't really been there in a while." He kicks the pebble to me.

"I guess I kinda figured, since you have a spaceship and you found your way to the realm of the Norse gods."

"Yeah, but I _really haven't_ been there in a while. Years, I mean."

I freeze mid kick. "Wait, what?"

"I got taken from Terra—er, _Earth_—when I was eight."

"_What?_" I cry. "You mean you haven't been there for—

"Twenty-five years." He shakes his head. "No...I guess not."

"Oh my god. So you don't know what iPhones are?" I ask. "Did you have a...a...what was out then... Not the oldest iPod probably. I don't know."

"What's an iPod?"

I laugh, jumping giddily. "I have so much to show you." Then I think for a second. "Then again, you've probably been with advanced life forms or something for a while so nothing Earth has would surprise you, I guess..."

"iPod?"

"Don't worry, I'll explain everything at some point." I find another stone and kick it back to him. "Want me to give you a tour of all the places I know?"

"Sure. Then...we could go exploring." He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

"We certainly _could_, but Odin would probably get mad, and he already is mad at me."

"He wouldn't have to find out," Peter says, kicking the rock up into the air. I dodge it just before it smacks me in the forehead.

"I told Lidolv where we were going, so if Odin needs us and we aren't by your ship or on the paths, he would know something's up."

"Maybe later then, when we haven't specified where we're going."

"Maybe." I grin at him.

We walk in silence for while. The ground begins to rise slightly and small purple flowers become visible in the grass.

"What about you? How long have you been away from Earth?"

"I don't really know. It was September 10th when I got abducted and I don't know if time here is different from time on Earth."

"How'd you get here?"

"I was kidnapped. It's kinda a long story."

He motions to the Bifrost you can just see over the flowery hill top. "Seeing as my ship's become a hunk of metal, I think I have enough time to hear your long story."

"Alright..." I then go on to explain everything that has happened to me until his arrival and watch as his eyebrows almost pop off the top of his head.

"Damn," he says once I've finished. "You can really burn leaves?"

"_That's_ what you got from all that?"

"I'm sorry, but you just said you can use magic."

"Yeah, I did. I'm not really that good at it though. I have to practice."

"Damn," he repeats. "You've been through a lot."

"To say the least," I agree.

We walk farther down the path and the slight incline turns steeper. As we hike up the hill, I begin to sprint. I run the rest of the way, to beat Peter to the top. To my left is a wide view of the sea. In front of me I can see the Bifrost and the sparkling rainbow bridge. When I turn around to look for Peter, I see a part of the village I've never seen before.

Peter finally reaches my side and pauses to look around, his eyes widening as he takes in his surroundings.

I swing out my arms and spin around. "Welcome to Asgard!" I cry.

He laughs.

"Allow me to point everything out to you."

"Okay."

"So, as you know, that is the Bifrost where your ship crashed. The sparkly colorful thing is called the Rainbow Bridge—"

"Very creative."

I smile. "What would you call it?"

He shrugs.

"At least it sounds better than Sparkly Colorful Bridge," I say, continuing down the path.

"I guess that's true." He follows me down the pathway. "Is that sea really falling into space?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty sure physics doesn't apply in Asgard—especially since the whole world is flat."

"How do you know that?"

"I took a mythology class in college. Though I suppose you could actually hang your head over and look, but since I don't exactly know how gravity works here, you could possibly get seriously injured doing that."

"Then I'll just take your word for it," he says, laughing.

The path we've been walking along merges with the one that connects the palace directly to the Rainbow Bridge. From here we can see all the way down the Bridge to where Peter's ship lies.

"When you first got here, you were saying something about coordinates?" I ask.

"Yeah, but there's no way to get them with everything busted."

We turn left and head down the Bridge toward his ship.

"Did you write them down anywhere?" I ask, staring down at the rainbows and light that fly out from my feet whenever I take a step.

"If I'd known I was going to crash into an electric see-through ball, I would have taken extra precautions."

"Well," I say, "maybe I could make it work."

"How?"

I hold up my hands and wiggle my fingers at him. "Magic!" He raises an eyebrow at me and I just shrug. "If it _works_, you'll be amazed; trust me."

"_If_ it works?"

"It's harder than you think. As I mentioned, the only thing I've been able to do successfully is burn leaves..." I trail off as we finally reach the ship. It is huge, orange, and looks like something taken directly from Star Wars.

"Nice, huh?" Peter asks, trailing his hand over the metal.

"Yeah..." I breathe. I walk around one of the wings. It is crushed against the Rainbow Bridge and definitely won't be able to fly again. Some other pieces of orange and grey metal scatter the Bridge and in front of us is the glass door; the glass is perfectly intact but it's hinges are stretched and bent.

"Damn, she took more damage than I thought." Peter looks at the entrance—which should be on top of the ship but isn't since it's lying on its side—then awkwardly hoists himself inside.

I follow him, a little less awkwardly, and immediately trip over some fallen boxes and metal. I fling out my arm. The first thing I happen to grab is Peter's arm, and due to the tilting of the ship, he slips and we both fall against the metal side. His head smacks against something and a small object falls and hits my cheekbone. I land on his chest and mumble out an unintelligible apology before scrambling to stand up.

Once I'm on my feet, I look down. "Are you okay?" I ask.

He groans in response and rubs the side of his head.

"Sorry."

He sits up. "No, no, it's fine. I enjoy falling and breaking my skull." He holds his hands out to me and I pull him up without falling. Then I look to see what it was that hit me. It's a small, black rectangle and I pick it up and flip it over.

"Awesome Mix, Volume One," I read.

"Yeah," Peter says, taking the tape from me. "It must've fallen out of my Walkman when I hit my head."

He looks around and then, apparently spotting what he was looking for, walks over to the control station and picks something up off the ground. He puts the tape inside it and comes back.

"I'm willing to bet," he says as he presses a button on the small tape player he's holding, "that, being from Earth, you have heard all the songs on here."

"You're probably right, but I am dying to know what songs you find awesome enough to put on a mix tape titled 'Awesome Mix, Volume One.'"

"Listen and see," he says with a smile, handing me the headphones.

I put them on, he presses play and instantly the opening sequence to Escape (The Piña Colada Song) fills my ears.

Peter says something.

"What?" I yell.

He repeats what he said, but I still can't hear him.

"What?" I ask, pulling off one of the headphones.

"You made a face. What song is it?"

"The Piña Colada Song."

"Do you not _like_ the Piña Colada Song?"

"No! I _do_, it's just not one of my favorites."

He presses the skip button and puts the headphones over my ears. Now it's a slow song that I don't recognize.

"This sounds like a slow-dance song," I say.

Peter looks like he's about to say something but then he jumps and turns around. I pull the headphones off, still hearing the music from where they rest around my neck, and follow him to the entrance of the ship.

Heimdall stands on the Bridge looking up at us.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"You both are needed by the Allfather," the Seer says. "It seems they have reached a decision."

"Must he constantly be with us?" Loki whispers from where he stands behind me.

"Yes," I say, focusing on the leaf I'm trying to burn. Instead of the small, heart-shaped ones I've been practicing on, I am holding the stem of a leaf the size of my face; I didn't think it'd make that much difference, but, since I have yet to even singe it a little bit, it apparently does.

I feel Loki's aggravation radiating into my back so I close my eyes to try to ignore it, focusing more intently on the leaf I'm holding. I remember the warmth I've felt every other time I've done magic and concentrate on that memory. A moment passes but then I feel the center of my chest grow warm. Slowly, it radiates out into my arm, down to my hand, through my fingers. And then—

"Oh my god!" Peter cries.

I open my eyes to see that the leaf I am holding is burning and the flames lick a few inches into the air.

"Very good," Loki says.

I turn to look at him. "This has never happened before!" I cry.

"I am well aware," he says, "but you may not want to turn away from an open flame. Especially one you are holding."

Right when he says this, my fingers grow hotter and it's not from magic. I look down at my hand just in time to see the fire eat the last bit of stem above my fingertips, then drop it. The embers float to the ground and I stomp on them a couple times.

"Ow," I mutter, looking at my hand. The tips of my thumb and forefinger are red.

"That is what I meant," Loki murmurs. He takes my hand, and I protest that my fingers aren't that burned; they are fine. But he ignores me and, holding my hand just above the wrist in one palm, holds his other hand over my fingers. My fingers tingle and I see pale blue light glowing from his palm.

I look up at him once the tingling has stopped.

"There," he says, meeting my gaze. "Do not be as foolish in the future." He drops my hand and looks away.

"You _both_ have magic?" Peter asks. He stands up from his seat at the base of a tree.

"Yeah," I say. And Loki mutters, "I am a god," and something else that sounds like _you dull creature_. I glance at him and feel my face grow warm when I see him watching me. Am I _blushing?_ He grins, but then it's gone and Peter is walking over to me.

"That is so cool," he exclaims. "What else can you do, besides burn stuff and conduct electricity?"

I laugh a little, looking over Peter's blonde head at Loki. The god looks extremely pissed as he stares out at the sea, brows furrowed and eyes dark. "I created a ball of light by accident once, with some help." I look at Loki again and am relieved when I see him soften a little at my words.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I glance across the table at Loki for probably the seventh time and he is in the same position he's been in the last six: rigid back, hard eyes staring down at his food or glowering at Peter, hand clenching his fork or cup. But this time, instead of noticing me and ignoring me, he catches my eye and we sit looking at one another until Peter nudges me with his knee. I jump a little and look at him.

"Hmm?" I ask.

"I was saying how yesterday you said you'd show me some sword fighting or something," Peter says, grinning at me.

"She did?" Thor exclaims loudly and excitedly from my other side. "That is very coincidental as I've been meaning to practice with her again."

"I've been meaning to ask again," I say, smiling. "Two great minds think alike."

"Indeed! After we finish our meal, we can all go to the Armory," Thor says, smiling back. "Quill, how fair you with a sword?"

"Uh, probably not _well_," Peter says. "I can use a _gun_, and other weapons like that. Or my boot; I am very skilled at kicking things."

I laugh and Loki's jaw clenches as he grabs his cup and takes an angry sip.

Peter has been here for five days now and since he arrived, Loki has become increasingly irritated. His mood started to change the day after I showed Peter around. The three of us were in a small sitting room. Peter and I were talking about soccer (one of the only things we could talk in depth about since he was only on Earth for...not that long) and Loki, who had been listening, had picked up a book. Every so often, his eyes would flick to me and I would feel my face flush but before I had time to catch his eye, he would always look away.

He got colder and more distant as the days went on, noticeably so when Peter was around. The only answer I could think of and can think of still is impossible—I mean, it _has_ to be. He is _Loki_, God of Mischief and Lies; he can't possibly be _jealous_ of _Peter_.

"Perhaps what you will learn today," Thor says, "will be helpful to you when you do not have a gun or such other devices." He smiles wider. "I prefer my hammer, but Lady Sif is one of the most talented swordsmen I know—or swordswomen, I should say."

"Indeed you should," Sif says, shooting him a look.

"And Loki, my brother," he continues after smiling at Sif, "is a most adept spearman. Perhaps he could—"

"I would rather not," Loki cuts in, looking up from his plate.

"Oh, come now, brother! It will be fun!"

"Teaching someone to fight with wooden props is not something I wish to add to my morning. Especially someone who relies too heavily on his guns and..._superior_ technology."

Thor sits back in his seat. "Oh, come now, Loki!"

"I'm sure Peter would be open to using new weapons," I say before I fully realize this isn't going to help in anyway whatsoever.

"I am sure he would," Loki says, glowering at me. He stands, pushing his chair in methodically, then turns without another word and walks out.

I mentally slap myself. _Shit. I'm such an idiot._

As the door closes behind him, I get up and push my chair in too.

"I'm going to...um..."

Frigga, who by now is also standing, nods at me and takes her seat.

In the time that it has taken me to walk out the door, Loki has walked almost to the end of the long hall.

"Loki!" I call, starting to jog after him. He doesn't stop so I run faster to catch up with his long strides. When I fall in step beside him, I'm breathing heavily. I look up at his face, trying my best to stay with him. His eyes have turned such a dark color that looking into them is like trying to squint through misty greenery at night and his mouth is a thin line, his lips white.

"Loki," I say softly, but he keeps walking. "_O_kay, _stop!_" I jump in front of him and press my hand against his chest. Now he stops.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Freya, I—"

"Loki, I know what's wrong." I frown at my hand that's touching his jacket, but don't take it away. Instead I find one of the metal decorations and begin to fiddle with it before looking at his face again. "And I just want to say that I'm sorry I've been spending so much time with Peter, it's just I haven't been home in so long. And he is the first person I have seen from Earth since I got here.

"We were talking about familiar things like soccer and old movies and stuff and it was just nice to have a little of that because I've been feeling kind of homesick I guess—I mean, I have been the whole time I've been here, but I didn't realize just how homesick I was until he got here. So...um...I'm sorry and I could tell you were getting frustrated and...and I don't want you to think that I—I don't know—that I—" I stop talking because I really have no idea what I'm trying to say. Focusing on the metal bit of his jacket I'm holding, I play with it more as I try to think of something else to say.

I start to say his name but right when I do, he takes my hand away from his jacket, his fingers light on my skin. Then he slides his arms around me and pulls me against him. I stand frozen, feeling one of his hands press against my back and the other just below the base of my neck. Everything inside me is telling at me to do _something_, to not just stand there. And another part of me has started screaming—partly from excitement and partly from the confusion I feel because I am..._excited_.

I take a breath and move on the exhale; I stand on my tip toes, wrap my arms around his neck and rest my forehead just below his shoulder. Now it's his turn to stand there frozen but a second later he pulls me fully against him, this time holding me tighter and lifting me up a little. Everything inside me squeals and starts dancing but at the same time it all melts. A small sigh slips through my lips and then anything unmelted inside me crumbles as Loki sighs too.

"Loki?" I murmur a few moments later.

"Hmm?"

"I don't like _Peter_," I say firmly, hoping he knows what I mean without my having to say '_like_-like' and risk sounding like a ten year old.

He laughs and even though it's short and not very loud, it sounds relieved. I smile to myself and hug him tighter.

"Forehead, across, across, waist, behind, thrust, guard," Thor and I say simultaneously, then stare at each other, smiling.

"Honestly, I'm surprised I remember it all," I say. "You're such a good teacher that your lessons stuck after one practice."

"You doubted my teaching skills, did you?" he asks, brandishing a wooden longsword at me.

I hold up my hands in defense. "No, no! I never doubted you for a moment, your thunder-ness." I give him an exaggerated curtsy, then pick my sword up from the ground. "To show you just how well I remember, shall we dual so Peter sees what we mean by the words we just listed?"

"Of course!" He gets into a fighting stance. "Remember, feet shoulder-width apart."

"Yes, yes, I know," I say. I hold my sword at the ready.

"Forehead!" Thor cries as he chops down at me. I block it and instantly bring my sword to my side to block his slashes—one, two. "Waist."

"Yup!" I dance away from his sword then go for _his_ waist.

He grins at me. "You have turned the tides."

I laugh as he thrusts his sword at me. I knock it away and jab at his chest, tapping it with the tip of my sword.

"Ha _ha!_" I yell as I pump a fist in the air.

"Very good!" He nods at me. "Now I believe it is time for Quill to learn."

I hand over my sword then walk to where Loki sits, back against a wall, a book open on his lap.

"So," I say, plopping down, "wanna teach me how to use a spear or something?"

He finishes the sentence he is on before looking up at me. "Hm?"

"I said, do you want to teach me any sword or spear skills? I heard you were 'a most adept spearman.'"

He looks down at his book, sighs, then closes it reluctantly. "I..._suppose_."

"If you learn rather quickly," Thor calls, "then we can all practice together."

Loki scoffs. "That sounds—"

"Fun!" I cry, receiving an unamused look from the God of Mischief. I grin at him.

Shaking his head, he rises and walks over to where two long wooden poles lean against the wall. He picks them up, tests their weight, then tosses one at me. I let out a small shriek as the pole lands in my hands, the momentum, however, causing it to smack me in the forehead.

"Ow."

Loki chuckles and walks over to me.

"That," he says lowly, "is payback for when you cut me in the kitchens."

"But that was an _accident_."

"Yes, and I did not mean to hit you in the head." He touches my forehead with his thumb. It's the spot that got bumped, but I don't feel any pain from a bruise, I just feel warmth.

"Is it red?" I ask, a little breathlessly. I clear my throat, hoping he didn't sense anything (but who am I kidding? He probably did.).

"Some."

"Will I live?" I smile a little.

"Most likely." He smiles and shrugs. "Now!" He backs away from me, the spot where his thumb had been still tingling.

_I'm so confused. He's the God of Mischief, he—_

"Ehm, Freya. Have you heard anything I've said?"

"No, sorry."

"Well, are you present now?"

"Mmmhmm, yup."

"Good." He gives me an odd, brow-furrowed expression, but then it passes. "Hold your staff like so." He slides his hands about a foot and a half apart and points the end of the pole at me. I do the same and try to copy his slightly lowered stance. "What I am about to show you are the most basic moves. However, when you truly know what you are doing, it will look something like this."

Loki starts by moving his hands so that the opposite end of the pole is facing me. Then he whips it around and away from him, spinning it over his head and stopping it behind his back. I cheer before realizing he's not done. As he continues, his moves get more graceful and fluid; it looks almost like a dance and it's beautiful to watch. He moves faster until the staff is a blur and his hair is flying out in all directions.

Suddenly, his body stops moving. His hand comes around and he hits the head off one of the training dummies. I jump as the impact sends the head flying, straw trailing after it.

I begin clapping and from behind me Peter cheers and Thor says, "Well done, Loki!" But Loki just stands with his back to me, breathing hard.

"Loki?" He doesn't seem to hear me so I walk forward and raise my arm to touch his shoulder. Before my fingertips even brush his jacket, he starts and whips around. The pole in his hand hits my side and I hear a sickening crack then fall to the ground.

I lie there moaning, my side aching and Loki, frozen, staring down at me. Tears begin to stream down my face but I wipe them away. Loki throws the pole away from him, grimacing, and kneels next to me.

"Freya, I am sorry."

"It's alright," I say, trying to sit up, but, feeling a stab of pain, lie back on my elbow. "Ow."

"Where are you hurt?" One of his hands hovers above my torso like he doesn't know what to do.

Realizing something is wrong, Thor and Peter rush over. They ask if I'm alright. I nod and they back away to give Loki room.

"My side," I say. I allow him to slip his hand under my shoulders and pull me onto his bent knees.

"I will have to—" He cuts off and motions to my tunic.

_Thank God I didn't wear a dress or this would be a **lot** more awkward._

"Right," I say and shift to pull the shirt up, but this movement causes another shot of pain to erupt in my ribs. I grit my teeth. "You're gonna have to do that."

He moves to lift my shirt, hesitating for a moment before hooking the fabric with a finger and sliding it up to expose the skin over my right ribcage.

"This will hurt," he says.

"Great," I mutter and squeeze my eyes shut.

At first there's just the growing feeling of warmth that flows over my skin and covers the pain. But a second later I feel a needle prick of pain under my skin, and this speck of pain grows larger than the warmth I felt at first. The pain brings the sensation of grinding and I scream, reaching out and grabbing someone's hand. More grinding before a soft pop then all the pain disappears, returning to warmth once again.

"There," Loki says. He brushes a tear from my cheek. "You can open your eyes now."

I blink a couple times, my head falling back onto Loki's leg, let go of the hand I've been holding (Thor's) and, with Loki's help, I sit up.

"Thank you," I say, smiling at him and wiping another tear away. "But I have one question."

"What is it?"

"Why is it that healing hurts more than the initial injury?"

That night, after some minor exploration and dinner, I change into my normal bedtime attire and barely make it to the mattress before I'm asleep.

_In my dream Malekith is dancing on stage at my college, singing a song about torture with some floating needles that sway back and forth to the beat. The music intensifies; the band (more Dark Elves playing instruments made from various sharp objects) plays louder and louder and louder until a cacophony of weird sounding flutes is all I hear. I watch myself run as the needles shoot at me then jump off the stage and chase me through the rows of seats. Then the needles start singing the chorus—just a series of increasingly loud thumps—and they get closer and closer until the tips are no more than an inch from my face. They pull back, ready to stab me, then rush forward and—_

I sit up in bed and rub my face frantically. I still have the sense that something is too close to me and look around and under my pillow, but nothing's there. Lying back down, I shift into a more comfortable position and close my eyes.

_Knock, knock. Knock, knock._

My eyes fly open and again I'm sitting up in bed, this time with my gaze fixed on the door.

_Knock, knock._

_Oh dear god, what if I'm still dreaming? What if this is one of those dreams within a dream where you know you're dreaming and have trouble waking up or something? The needles are still singing outside my door and they're going to come in and—_

"Freya!" comes Loki's hushed voice.

"Thank god," I whisper and swing myself out of bed. Hurrying over to the door, I open it and peak out. He stands there, a blanket under his arm, looking nervous.

"Hi," I say. "What do you need?"

He shifts a little, his right hand playing with his left.

"Well?" A smile inches across my lips.

"I came to perhaps make up for my hitting you _twice_."

"And you thought a good way would be waking me up in the middle of the night?"

"You have not heard my full plan." He grins mischievously.

"Oh, well in that case, come in." I step aside and he enters.

Once I've closed the door, I turn to find him rummaging through my wardrobe. When he finds what he's looking for, he stands and brandishes another blanket.

"Blankets," I observe.

"Very good."

"What are we doing?"

"We," he says, walking to my balcony door, "are going for a late night stroll."

"Alright then," I say and walk over, noticing a bounce enter my step. He opens the door and lets me go out before closing it behind us.

We descend the stairs and Loki leads me to a path I've never noticed before. The air around us is cool but a warm breeze moves the trees of the garden lightly. The planets' light creates shadows that stretch out across the path and shapes that look like creatures hiding around tree trunks and behind bushes.

I draw closer to Loki and a small smile crosses his lips.

As we get deeper into the garden the types of trees change from pines and maples to small willow-like ones and others with blossoms that have closed for the night. The shadows slowly disappear as the trees begin to grow further apart. Then I notice the sound of splashing water and before us I see a break in the trees where the path leads into a clearing.

We finally escape the trees and the source of the splashing reveals itself.

In the clearing before us is a large body of water, in the midst of which is a small island. A pavilion made of light colored wood stands at its center, surrounded by fountains. Two bridges lead to the island pavilion, one from either side of the clearing. Small gold lilies dot the water, each with a little ball of light hovering in its center. They look like lanterns, their warm glow shining off the still and sparkling waters.

"Oh my god," I breath, stopping in my tracks and taking in the view in front of me. "Oh Loki, it's beautiful! I didn't know this was here. Oh my _god_."

He turns from where he stands on one of the bridges. "It is very lovely, however this is not our final destination."

"Oh!"

He motions for me to follow so I rush after him, pausing briefly to kneel down and watch one of the flowers float by. When I look up, Loki is already crossing the other bridge.

I continue, staring at the pavilion as I pass. In the wood are small spirals of silver, gold and jade.

"Loki, this is so beautiful!" I say, finally catching up to him. "How do all those lights just hover in the flowers?"

"Magic."

I look back for one last glimpse before we reenter the garden. The path curves and the fountains and pavilion are out of sight.

We walk along in silence for a while and I watch as the willowy trees give way to only the trees with the pink flowers.

"Where are we—" I start, but stop as we pass out of the garden and enter another clearing. This one opens to a view of the sea and the Bifrost peaking out from behind the trees. I look past the sea into space and gasp as two shooting stars whiz past.

I walk forward, stopping abruptly before the edge of a small cliff. It drops ten feet down to sand that leads into the surf. Waves crash against the shore and fill the air with a slight mist and the smell of salt.

Loki comes up behind me. "I remember," he whispers, his breath on my ear making me shiver, "you saying that your favorite sounds are the wind in the trees and a stream over rocks. I hope waves will suffice."

"Yeah," I say. My voice catches in my throat when I turn and see how close he is. "Yeah, waves will suffice." I stand there and time slows down. But then he clears his throat and steps back. And I step back. And time speeds up again.

"I am glad." He smiles, then walks a few feet away from the edge of the cliff and unfolds one of the blankets.

I join him and help spread it out, flattening the wrinkles in the woven fabric. Loki sits and I scoot on and lie down. I rest my head on my hand, propping myself up with my elbow, and look at him.

"Hello," I say.

"Hello." He chuckles and looks out at the sea. I follow his gaze and watch as more shooting stars fly by.

"Is it a meteor shower?" I ask, looking at him. He nods. I look back at the sea and then close my eyes, listening to the waves. I lie all the way down and cross my arms behind my head. The wind picks up a little, fluttering my hair around my face, and a small sigh escapes my lips. "Loki?"

"Yes?" His voice is quiet and I don't have to look to know he's smiling.

"What happened earlier today, in the armory?"

"What do you mean?" Now his voice is tight and I open my eyes. He's staring off at nothing in particular.

"After you hit the head off the dummy, you didn't move."

He presses his lips together, then says, "It is nothing. It was just the first time I did anything close to fighting since—" He glances at me but I already know he's referring to New York. "I apologize again for my actions; I truly did not mean to break your rib."

I roll onto my side to look at him and rest my head on my arm. Loki, I see, is now lying down, one leg bent, hands behind his head.

"It's okay." I yawn before I can stop myself. "But," I say, all of the sudden feeling overwhelmingly tired, "I will get payback."

"Will you?"

"Yes, and you won't see it coming." My voice comes out slightly mumbled and he laughs. I look at him, narrowing my eyes. "What's so funny?"

"My dear, your threats do not sound even half as menacing when you are sleepy."

I close my eyes again.

"Yeah, well..."

"However," his voice is right next to my head, "I believe you."

When I dare to open my eyes, he's back to lying with his leg propped. He meets my gaze and raises an eyebrow at me.

"Uh..._good!_" I say, a little too loudly and a little too nervously. I sit up and rub my face, trying to de-blush it, but I don't think it does any good. Eventually I lie back down and stare up at the stars.

"Freya," Loki whispers.

I open my eyes—I hadn't realized I'd closed them again—and roll over.

"Yes?" I yawn.

"Watch." He is sitting and points at the sky. I sit up and look where he's pointing.

At first I don't see anything, but then one star in particular begins to grow brighter and bigger until it starts moving. The meteor hurtles toward us and flies over our heads. I spin around in time to see the end of its tail pass over us.

"Oh!" I cry. The meteor continues flying, getting farther and farther away until I can barely see it. I turn back and stare at Loki. "How did you know _that_ was going to happen?"

"I did not, at least not until about a minute ago." He lies back down and so do I, still feeling exhausted despite the moment of excitement.

I yawn again and curl up a little on the blanket. Closing my eyes, I hear Loki humming to himself. I smile, but because I'm so tired, I'm not sure if I do it physically or if it's just in my head.

...

I open my eyes, waking from a surprisingly pleasant dream that involved me and Loki dancing to whatever song he had been humming. For a moment I think I'm back in my bed, but then I realize that it's just the grass under the blanket that has formed to my body. While I slept, Loki put the blanket he had arrived with over me (the same one I had woken under that time I accidentally fell asleep on his couch).

I stretch and sit up, reluctantly leaving my comfy position, and spot Loki standing by the edge of the cliff facing the Bifrost. Pulling the blanket around my shoulders, I join him.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asks, not looking at me.

"Yes, thank you for the blanket."

"It was nothing."

I follow his gaze to the Bifrost and watch the colors of the Rainbow Bridge ripple and swirl. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his jaw clench. I fully face him, frowning. His eyes are dark and match the blue-green sea they stare over; his brows are slightly furrowed and his lips are pressed together.

"What's wrong?" I ask quietly.

He closes his eyes as if to rid himself of his thoughts, then looks down at me.

"Nothing you should concern yourself with."

"Why?" I raise my eyebrows at him, but he doesn't answer. "Is it about earlier?"

He looks at his boots, blinks, and looks back at me. "Yes."

_Was that so hard?_ "So I repeat my question: what's wrong?" I watch him, waiting.

"When I..._dropped_ from the Rainbow Bridge I landed in a horrible place," he stiffens, "and there, I was—" Loki looks back at the Bifrost and takes a breath. "There I was...given a scepter that I used when I invaded your realm. It had a certain power—it was able to intensify one's emotions, take even those deepest inside you and bring them to the surface, multiplying them tenfold."

I wrap the blanket through my fingers, biting my lip. I must look more nervous than I was trying to let on because when he glances at my face, his eyes soften to near blue and he looks a little sad.

"I am not trying to excuse my actions on Midgard, Freya."

I nod. "I..." I pause, thinking through how to word what I want to say. "I am not saying all that you did was okay, because it's not—it was my planet you were attacking. And...um...I might get angry about it sometimes, but I promise to not let that be the only thing that defines you...to _me_. And I promise to not bring it up just to be a jerk, and—" Then Loki grabs me and pulls me into a hug. His forehead rests in the crook of my neck (which must not be that comfortable considering I'm much shorter than he is) and I feel his whole body shudder. I place my hands on his shoulder blades and hold him tighter, feeling a small splash on my collarbone.

We stand like that for a while. Then my blanket falls from my shoulders. Loki immediately lets me go and lunges for it before the slight wind can carry it over the edge of the cliff. He walks back and hands it to me, turning back to the sea with a smile in his eyes.

"Thank you for the blanket," I say, pulling it back around me.

"It was nothing," he murmurs.

A minute of us not saying anything passes, then I drop one of my hands and reach sideways, feeling for Loki's fingers. I find them and slip my hand into his. He closes his hand around mine and I smile down at my feet.

...

Once back at my room, Loki hangs one of the blankets over the balcony railing (the other is still wrapped around my shoulders). "I should take my leave," he says.

I nod, starting to feel nerves knot in my stomach; sleep means the possibility of more nightmares. "Okay," I murmur, not sure if I actually speak or if I just move my lips.

_I don't want to be alone._

"Sleep well, Freya," Loki says.

_I won't._

He catches my hand and presses my knuckles to his lips. I can't help but smile as a blush tiptoes up my cheeks, then he turns to go. I make up my mind.

"U-um, Loki?"

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at me, the light of the lamp illuminating his face and making his cheekbones more prominent. My breath catches again and I clear my throat. _That's been happening a lot._

"Uh, would you be able—I mean...um...could—could you _stay?_" I can feel myself blushing again... I hate that! "I don't mean... Er, I mean in my room. I've just been having bad dreams a lot recently and...umm...Could you stay tonight?"

He crosses the room, returning to me in three long strides. Then he takes my hand, and says, "I would be honored to scare away your nightmares."

Loki lies down on the sofa and rests his head on the pillows Freya had tossed him. He rests one foot on the ground, the other hanging a little ways off the end, and pulls a blanket up to his chest. He isn't very comfortable, the couch being far to small for his tall frame, but he smiles to himself as Freya's breaths slow and soften into sleep.

Closing his eyes, he dozes off for what seems like a minute before he is awakened by a scream. Freya is sitting up, her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking.

Loki throws off the blanket and approaches the bed. He lowers himself slowly beside her, so he doesn't startle her.

"Freya," he whispers. She jumps then looks up at him. Her eyes are red and tears trail down her cheeks. A moment passes of them looking at each other, but then Freya shifts and moves closer to him, starting to cry harder.

He gathers her into his arms and she presses her forehead to his chest.

"Malekith wanted me to find—" She gasps. "He wanted me to find something but I didn't know where it was."

"It was only a dream," he whispers. "You are safe; he is not here."

She nods.

"I know. It was just—" Suddenly she looks up at him. "They had my mom, Loki. And Darcy and my aunt. Do you—do you think they really do? What if they know where they live, what if—" She starts sobbing again.

"I do not know, Freya. However, I do not think he would go to your family or your friends. He knows you are here and now Asgard's shield is gone. He will try to get _you_, but we will not let that happen." Then quieter, "_I_ will not let that happen."

"He'll want me to find it," Freya whispers.

"Find what?"

"I-I think in my dream is was a rock...or a gem? An amethyst, I think Malekith said."

Loki sucks in a short breath. _Amethyst_. _The_ Amethyst?

The god blinks and pulls back to look at Freya.

"Do not worry about it now. It was just a dream."

She nods again. "Please don't leave."

"I will not."

Freya lies down and pulls the covers over her. Loki waits for her to get settled then lies down next to her on top of the blankets.

"Thank you," she whispers, closing her eyes tentatively.

Loki lies, one leg bent, staring up through the woven metal of the canopy at the ceiling. He closes his eyes, thinking about the Amethyst and Freya's connection to it, and falls into an uneasy sleep.


	25. Chapter 24

Loki pushes the door to the Council Room open and together we walk in. At once all the faces in the room, including an impatient Allfather, turn to look at us. I freeze at the attention but immediately Loki speaks.

"She remembers."

Odin stands, looking from his son to me and back again, frowning like he's looking for someone else. Then he nods and, to my surprise, says, "We were waiting for you both. Come, sit. We will start the meeting at once."

Loki blinks, obviously shocked too, but then he snaps out of it and motions for me to follow him. We sit in two empty chairs beside Frigga. Loki takes the seat next to his mother and I sit beside Lady Sif who smiles at me.

I look around the table, recognizing faces from the last meeting. But someone's missing.

"Where's Thor?" I ask in a hushed voice.

"He left to retrieve you two," she says. "I thought it was he who brought you here."

As soon as she says this, Thor comes through the doors. "Father, I could not—Oh, I suppose it's because they are here." He chuckles as he walks to his seat beside Odin, pausing to smile at us before sitting.

"Now," Odin calls, his voice carrying over the room, "it is time we begin." Everyone quiets down and I shift a little. This is the first time I've ever been a part of one of these things from the very beginning and the big room is making it daunting.

"Nervous?" Loki murmurs.

"Does it show?" I hiss, tightening my grip on the fabric of my dress.

His hand covers my fists and eases them apart enough to slip his fingers between mine. "A bit."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Frigga smile.

"Loki, please elaborate on your original statement," Odin says, breaking apart the moment. Loki squeezes my hand then stands.

"Of course." He clears his throat. "As you all know, when Freya first arrived here, the Dark Elf in the dungeons assumed Malekith had something known as the Amethyst. However, he did not. Until now Freya knew only that she was taken to help him find something—she did not know what. We thought it was the Amethyst but could not be sure. She told me…this morning," a hint of a smile crosses his lips, "that last night she had a dream. She can carry on further."

He sits and all eyes turn to me. I get up, take a breath, and begin. "So, um, last night I had a dream, er… a _nightmare_. Actually a series of nightmares all including Malekith. At one point he had my family." I can feel my throat closing but I carry on. "And this dream led me to relive what happened in his ship, just different circumstances. Instead of just asking me if I knew and torturing me, he asked me if I knew and tortured _them._" I can barely cough out this word so I stop.

"And what was it Malekith asked you to find?" Odin asked.

"The Amethyst."

"And you remember this clearly?"

"Yes."

"How do you know this was not merely brought on by—"

"_Because!_" I cry before I can stop myself. "Because it…it _feels _different than the other dreams. It _feels _like a memory when the rest of the dream _feels_ like a dream. It just gets hazy around the edges at that part." I reluctantly pull whatever I can remember about the nightmare to the front of my mind and I don't know if my memory is warping the image, but in my mind's eye I see Malekith asking me where the Amethyst is. But as he forms the words, another elf injects me with something just like what happened in real life and then everything grows hazy and garbled and then: _If you help us find the Amethyst, you will be free. But if you do not I will torture you, girl, and in the end I _will_ kill you._

I remember my response, _then kill me_, and shudder.

"It was a memory," I whisper.

"What?" Odin asks.

"Malekith said that if I help them find the Amethyst then I will be free, but if not, he'll kill me." I push the sense of terror growing in my stomach as far down as I can for the time being. "Thanks to me, the force field surrounding Asgard is gone. The Dark Elves have no doubt noticed by now and are coming for me. They might even be out there right this moment. Now," I say, cutting off Odin as he opens his mouth. Not a good move but I need to say this. "Now, here's my problem. Ever since I got here, I have been excluded from every meeting except the ones that you deemed appropriate. And I mean no disrespect when I say that that's really pissed me off." Loki coughs and I glance down to see him covering a smile. "I still don't understand your reasoning behind not including me in meetings that were clearly _about me_ but right now I'm not questioning your decisions because that won't do me or you or this meeting any good. What I would like to know is every single detail from those meetings about me and I would like to know them now. Please leave out nothing."

I sit down and place my clasped hands on the table. Throughout my speech eyes widened and mouths dropped as I blatantly disrespected the Allfather in front of his Council, and for a moment no one speaks, they just keep staring at me.

I raise my eyebrows at Odin and watch with bated breath as he mulls over what I said (and probably decides how to punish me).

_God, I hope it's community service._

Loki's knee bumping mine jerks me away from my thoughts.

"I'm impressed," he says lowly, the tone of his voice making my insides do a gymnastic routine.

"I'm glad someone is," I whisper through the butterflies threatening to fly from my stomach and out my mouth.

"Don't worry. I do not _think _he will kill you."

I turn on him. He wears a mischievous grin. "You are a complete and utter ass," I mutter.

"Am I?"

I'm about to confirm my remark when Odin finally talks.

"To fully explain _everything,_ as you have requested, I must start with the Amethyst itself."

I nod and around me are a chorus of murmurs, some reluctant to hear what they have heard before, others indifferent.

"Neither I nor Heimdall know what the Amethyst is—whether it is truly a rock or even if it is tangible. But, because Heimdall got a brief glimpse of Svartalfheim after the field was created, we know the Dark Elves are building a device they could use to wield whatever power the Amethyst possesses. The picture you saw, Freya, when you first came to the Council Room, was a sketch of what Heimdall had seen."

I think back to the day I convinced Odin to let Loki out. The paper I had found had a circle with what looked like a hole in the center.

"Due to the way the device was described, it would be assumed the Amethyst is just that: a powerful gem stone. If it is one of the six Infinity Stones or a seventh, we know not. You remember what I told you about the Infinity Stones, yes?"

I nod.

"Then I will not repeat that part. Now, when you first arrived here, Heimdall saw when the field formed. And it later came to my attention that he knew who or what created it. It would seem that, somehow, even in your unconscious state, you were trying to defend yourself; you used the magic you didn't know you possessed to hide Asgard from all eyes and force the Dark Elves out, in the process blinding Heimdall to everything but Asgard." Odin pauses to let this information sink in.

I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples.

"H-holy shit," I whisper.

I drop my hands to my lap and when I open my eyes, everyone is staring at me again—including Loki. Apparently I wasn't the only one excluded from this knowledge.

I look at Loki, who has an extremely peculiar smile on his face. He reaches under the table and pulls one of my hands into his and rubs small circles into my palm. I feel my nerves quiet, but only for a moment.

"Y-you can keep going," I say, glancing at Odin then staring at my free hand. I turn it over, palm down, and slowly make a fist. It feels detached, like it doesn't belong to me. And how could it? How could I have this power coursing through me that I knew nothing about? How could I not know I have the power to light a leaf on fire without a match, make a glowing ball of magic hover over my hands? _How could I not know myself?_

I shove my hand under my leg. I can't look at it, at my legs, at my clothes without feeling like I'm staring at a stranger.

"Freya?" Odin says. His voice is surprisingly soft.

I look up.

"Do you wish for me to continue?"

I nod frantically. I need to know if he's kept anything else about me secret.

"If you are sure."

"I am," I say. My voice wavers a little.

"Because of what you and Loki have told me about your dream, it is now clear why Malekith wants you. I too believe that now the field is down, the Dark Elves will return to reclaim you and…_urge_ you to help them. Now that Heimdall has his Sight back, their return will be anticipated and therefore we will be more prepared. Though what I have told you is not everything discussed at the meetings, it is the most important. There may be a time when I tell you more, but until then, I hope you are satisfied with this knowledge."

"I am, thank you," I say.

"Very well. With that, may I announce this Council Meeting's end."

Loki and I stand, but no one else does.

"Why is no one moving?" I whisper, everything in me trembling with the echo of what I've just learned.

Loki frowns.

"Freya," Odin says, standing. I look at him. "There is one more thing. I know that for your entire stay thus far I have not treated you with hospitality or kindness of any sort and for that I truly apologize." I feel my mouth fall open and clamp it shut. "I would also like to inform you that I, Frigga, Thor, and the entirety of the Council of Asgard have made it our goal to protect you against any threats." Odin's eyes flick to Loki. "It was only too recently that the Nine Realms fell into chaos. I wish to keep the peace a little longer."

Then the Allfather clasps his right hand and crosses it over his chest and I almost fall over from shock. "Whether you are in this Realm or another, I will do everything in my power to protect you from Malekith and his forces."

Then Thor stands, smiling broadly. "Lady Freya, I too promise to protect you from any threat the Dark Elves pose. And I will also do everything in my power to ensure your safety." He clasps his right hand and crosses it over his chest as well. Then slowly, one by one around the table, everyone stands and salutes, chorusing "And I!"

The circle makes its way around the table and jumps to Frigga, leaving Loki for the end. When it is finally his turn, he smiles at me and I wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks. He clasps his hand with my hand still in it and crosses it over his chest, holding my palm against his heart.

"And I."

. . .

"Do you wish for me to stay with you tonight?" Loki asks.

We stand by the door to my room and I try to anticipate whether my dreams will be good or bad after the meeting today.

"If you do not desire my company," he continues—I frown a little at all the things that phrase has meant in so many movies and works of literature, and he smirks—"then I will only come if I think you need me."

"Thank you," I say. I smile at him and open my door, about to walk inside when he catches my hand.

"Freya."

I turn. "Yes?"

"Today at the Council Meeting, when you learned that you were the one who created the electric field that surrounded Asgard—" I swallow the ball forming in my throat "—what were you thinking?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. "What-what do you mean?"

He takes a step closer and I take a step back, not looking at him.

"Freya, I did not read your thoughts. Though I wanted to, I refrained." He tilts my chin up with his thumb, his fingers reaching into my hair. "So, I repeat, what were you thinking? You looked very…scared." His last word is a whisper and I see his eyes turn a dark shade of turquoise grey.

I shudder a little as I try to hold back a sob. "How—" My voice cracks and the sob breaks through. I try again, but can't even get out an H when I just give up and let everything I've been more or less bottling up out.

Loki pulls me against him, one arm wrapped all the way around my torso and the other around my shoulders, and lets me cry.

After a few minutes of sobs that rake my throat, I'm left with only tears that trail slowly down my face and drip from my chin to Loki's leather vest.

"I—" I start in a whisper, trying to push the words out through my quavering lips. "I'm afraid of myself, Loki."

I feel him stiffen, but he doesn't say anything for a long time.

"My dear." His voice is thick and I can't tell if he's about to start crying too, or laughing. "Of course you already know, but you are hugging a Jotun." He pulls away to look at me. When I don't say anything, he continues. "Do you see this sleeve?" he asks, holding up his left arm. Sewn down the green fabric of his shirt is a raised, spiraling decoration that reminds me of the raised markings that appear on his skin when he turns blue. I nod. "Do you know why it differs from the other?"

"No." I study his face. It looks like he's fighting to stay calm; his jaw is clenched slightly and his brows are furrowed.

"It is late and you look tired so I shall save the full story for later, but I will say that I did not always know I was of another Realm." He grits his teeth for a moment, then he smiles. "Let us just say that I know what it is like to be afraid of who you are."

I look down at my sandaled feet standing a few centimeters away from his boots. A grin flicks across my lips.

"What?" he asks.

"I have more in common with a god," I say, looking up at him, "than I do with some of my friends down on Earth."

His laugh is a breath. "I suppose you do."

We stand there in un-awkward silence for a moment, just looking at each other. Loki is the first to break our gaze and does this only to take my hand and press his lips to my knuckles.

"Sleep well, Freya. And may your nightmares not trouble you tonight."

"Goodnight, Loki," I say and turn to my open bedroom door. But the feeling of Loki's breath on my ear makes me stop before I can enter my room.

He is making it _really _hard for me to go to bed—and part of me is happy about it.

"Though I must admit," he whispers, "I do hope your sleep is fitful so that I may join you once again."

A shiver runs down my back and I hear him chuckle.

"Well, the faster you let me go to bed, the faster you can come check on me," I say, glancing over my shoulder. He's gone; so, _finally_, I walk into my room and close the door. I get ready for bed, unable to keep a smile from my face despite my still spinning stomach and nerves, then I lie down.

Despite Loki's original hope of pleasant dreams, my mind subconsciously listens to his second comment and it's as if I'd just closed my eyes when my screams and Loki wake me.

Loki's words must jinx it because from that point on, my nightmares get worse and more frequent. I wake up at least once each night to my own screams or sobs, and several times more just because the dreams are awful. If Loki doesn't wake me up fast enough, my body rips me out of the dreams itself; after three nights of this, the sensation begins to physically and mentally _hurt_.

During the day I'm at turns irritable and silent, which I know is annoying to everyone around me. Luckily it doesn't seem to affect Loki at all. Probably because, well, he _is_ Loki. Or maybe because he has bad dreams too…

After a few more days of my snippy comments, Peter finally decides to do something about it. The two of us—Loki is with Frigga—march down to the Infirmary to see Eir. She tells me how my dreams are just a reaction to everything I've been through. _"Yes, yes, I know!"_ Then she says she will make a special medicine to help put me into a deeper sleep where the nightmares can't follow. _"Thank god. Thank you!"_

She also tells me that if I somehow accidentally drink the whole vial, I might not wake up. Ever. _"Oh shit."_ After promising not to do that, we leave and go visit Peter's ship.

Repairs finally started on it two days after I remembered the Amethyst. The Asgardian mechanics are making good progress and to my dismay, Peter could be leaving in two days if everything goes as planned.

"So you're saying," I say, pointing my wooden sword at Peter, "that if I beat you _right now_ you will take me for a spin in your spaceship once it's fixed."

"Right."

"But only _someday._"

"Also right." He grins.

"Screw you," I mutter. "I want to fly around space _tomorrow!_"

"Enough of this pointless banter!" Loki cries. "Freya, I am truly happy you are feeling better after a full night's rest, but I would very much like to move on from wooden swords."

Thor laughs.

I look at Loki and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'm waiting," he says. I turn back to Peter.

"En garde!" I yell, dropping into my fighting stance. Peter does the same but a little more clumsily. I take advantage of this and jab at his waist. He blocks successfully but I'm already two steps ahead and closing in. Our swords knock over and over and I smile at him as I push him farther toward the edge of the training area. Chopping down at his head, I cry out in victory when he stumbles a little at the top of the hill. I place the sword against his neck like they do in the movies then turn to look at Thor and Loki.

Thor is clapping and nodding, but Loki just stands there looking mischievously amused.

"What?" I ask. "Didn't I just wi—"

Then the hilt of Peter's sword hits my back and I tumble to the ground.

I roll over and look up at him. He's laughing and cheering. I frown, trying to keep my own smile from showing.

"I guess that means _I _win," he says and holds out his hand for me to take.

"I guess it does," I say, taking it. He pulls me up and I dust myself off. "Touché by the way."

"Touch-ee to you too." He grins. "I'll still come back and take you for a ride though. I'm not _that_ coldhearted."

"Wow. What a gentleman." I pick up my sword. "But seriously, thanks. I'm really excited."

We walk over to where Thor and Loki stand. Thor laughs even more than before and Loki smiles. I walk over to glare at him.

"Why so smug?"

He brushes his thumb against my cheekbone and rubs at some dirt. "_Never _turn your back on the enemy," he says, the side of his mouth turning up.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Peter say something to Thor then they both look at us, smiling.

On our way out of the Armory, I'm walking with Peter. Thor and Loki follow us discussing something involving the Dark Elves. I'm trying not to listen.

"So," Peter says. He shoves his hands in his pockets and I look at him, frowning at his smirk. "You're into the tall-dark-haired-mysterious-bad-boy type, huh?"


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

I roll over in bed, opening my eyes, and blink at my curtains. It's still nighttime outside. I sit up and look around, feeling extremely confused because, for the first time in forever, I didn't wake up screaming or crying uncontrollably. The promise of a magic medicine to help me sleep must already be scaring off the nightmares.

I get out of bed and glance at Loki lying asleep on my sofa as I make my way to the bathroom. My fingers barely brush the cold metal of the door handle when a loud cry makes me jump. I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from shrieking and turn. Loki shifts and kicks his blankets to the floor. _I guess I know what woke me up._ He flinches, shrinking away from whatever or whoever is invading his dreams. He freezes and a sound escapes him that can only be described as a whimper. Then a look of sheer terror contorts his face as he lets out another wail, and everything inside me breaks.

"Loki," I say, rushing to the sofa and kneeling by his head. "Loki, you're dreaming." I place my hand on the cushion next to his cheek, not sure if I should try more forcefully to wake him up or if words will suffice. He might lash out and I really don't want another broken rib. "Loki, wake up. It's me. It's Freya."

A tear slides down the side of his face and splashes onto the back of my hand. If he lashes out, so be it.

I wipe away the tear and then pull tendrils of sweaty hair off his forehead. "Loki." I trail my fingertips over the skin an inch or so from his eye, over his cheekbone, his jaw, being as gentle as I can.

His sudden intake of breath and the sight of green eyes make me jump again. He scrambles back, away from my touch, as far as the couch will allow and stops, breathing hard, more tears running down his cheek and dripping from his chin.

I take a controlled breath in and let it out. "Loki, it's Freya," I say, rising slowly, like I'm trying not to provoke a wild animal. We watch each other for a second.

"Freya," Loki whispers, his voice small. And then he crumples, folding in on himself; one hand holds his head and the other disappears behind him as he wraps his arm around his stomach, bringing his knees up to his chest. Despite him being so tall, and his personality being so large, he seems to shrink into the sofa as he holds himself together.

I am frozen, but the sound of gasping sobs pulls me back to reality.

"I'm right here," I murmur, sitting on the sofa. He doesn't move so I scoot closer to him, pulling his hand away from his face and holding it against my heart. Then I hug him against me even though he struggles to pull away.

Slowly, his ragged breathing quiets and I can tell he has stopped crying. By then my own tears have dried on my cheeks. Now, we just sit there, me holding him together as tightly as I can, and him silent, as everything inside him trembles, threatening to explode.

"Has Loki said anything about the upcoming events?" Frigga asks.

Peter bumps me with his elbow and I look up from my breakfast. I glance at Loki, who isn't eating. He hasn't said much besides, "Good morning," and "You have my thanks," after what happened last night and I haven't pushed him. Whatever his dream was about has made him quiet and very un-God-of-Mischief-and-Lies-like. To be honest, it is _really_ throwing me off. "No, he hasn't," I say, pushing my lips into a smile. "What sort of events?"

"In a few days' time, it will be my son's Day of Birth."

"Loki?" I cry. I look at him and he grimaces, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I didn't know gods celebrate birthdays."

Frigga grins excitedly and pats Loki's hand. He grimaces even more. "Indeed we do—though we have not celebrated his in quite some time. But let us not focus on that now!" she finishes quickly, smiling from Loki to me. "Our customs are not like those on Midgard. Because we live so long, we only celebrate our Day of Birth every few years."

I push my plate away and lean my elbows on the table, trying to hold in my excitement, if only to save Loki from the pain of more grimacing. "So what do you guys do?"

Right as the Queen is about to answer, the door opens and Thor, Sif and Fandral walk in.

"Good morning, Mother!" Thor says in his usual loud but happy voice.

"Thor. I was just telling Freya about the celebration drawing near."

"Were you?" He plops down next to me, picks up an empty plate and begins to load it with food as he continues. "Has she told you all that is to happen? About the ball? The feast?"

"_No!_" I cry. "There's a _ball?_ Like an _actual _ball?"

Frigga laughs, nodding, and I catch a glimmer of a smile in Loki's eyes.

"Indeed there is," she says.

"There is a _ball_, Loki, and you didn't _tell _me?"

"I truly apologize, my dear. But as you know, I have been a bit preoccupied as of late," he says, shifting to take a roll from a platter.

"People from every part of the castle will be attending, and some others who live close by," Thor says, taking a big bite of something that looks like an omelet with vegetables mixed in.

"I still do not understand why," Loki mutters.

"Why what?" I ask, too excited about an _actual ball_ to take in anything anyone has said.

"Why so many people we do not know and may not even like are being invited. Valhalla knows no one here very much enjoys my presence."

"Do you not know half of them half as well as you would like and like less than half of them half as well as they deserve?" I ask. Loki finally cracks a full-fledged smile and I sit back in my seat, triumphant, and ignoring everyone else's confused looks.

_A job well done if I do say so myself…_

"Loki," Sif says, glancing at me once more before continuing—I grin at Loki who hasn't taken his eyes off me since I spoke— "you _did_ help save Asgard when it was under siege from the Dark Elves."

"You also have not done anything malicious since your release from the dungeons," Fandral adds.

"And I am sure you are very_ shocked _Fandral," Loki mutters.

Sif shoots Fandral a glare when he opens his mouth to retort. "If they still wish to _not_forgive you, that is their choice, but I highly doubt it will keep them from a grand party."

"Wonderful, Sif. Thank you; your words have truly soothed all my misgivings about the fact," he says. "Now, Freya, Peter, Thor, shall we—"

The door opens again, and this time a guard comes in. "They have finished work on the visitor's vessel." I feel my stomach sink. "He may leave whenever you or he wishes."

"Thank you, Tryggr," Frigga says, smiling. Tryggr crosses his arm over his chest and dips his head.

I look at Peter. He looks back at me, his expression one of both eagerness and sadness.

"Should we go look at it then?" I ask.

"I guess we should," Peter says. He takes one last bite of food and stands. I get up too, followed by Loki, Frigga, Thor and the rest. Then all of us walk out of the dining room.

When we get to the large room where Peter's ship is, his face lights up and he runs over to it and hugs it, his arms straight out in either direction.

"Ohhhh, I missed you!" he whispers then turns to me. "Now you can see her in all her glory!"

I walk over and look it up and down. "Yes, in all her _obnoxiously_ _orange_ glory."

Peter pretends to cover the spaceship's nonexistent ears. "You'll hurt her feelings." Then to the ship, "Shh, she didn't mean that."

I laugh.

"And I'll have you know, I picked this color out myself." He steps back to admire it.

"You definitely know your colors; is it an apricot or a tangerine?"

"I was going for more of a _carrot_, but we all perceive things differently."

We're both silent.

"So…when are you going to head out?"

His smile falls away as he turns to fully face me. "Soon, today probably. _Now._ I feel like I've already overstayed my welcome. And my broker friend on Xandar probably thinks I ditched him since he already paid me a quarter of the final price. I tried to get half but then I might have _actually _ditched him."

I had almost forgotten about why he was here in the first place. Almost.

"You get to go looking for the mysterious rock," I say.

"Hopefully I won't be crashing into any other invisible worlds or planets."

I look at the ground and Peter walks over to Frigga. He holds out his hand to her. She smiles at him, taking it and bobbing their hands once.

"Thank you for letting me stay here for so long," he says. "I really appreciate it. _And_ thanks for fixing my ship."

"It was nothing at all," the Allmother says. "But are you sure you do not wish to stay for the festivities?"

"Like I said to Freya, I should be getting back to Xandar, or at least back to looking for that rock." Then he looks at Loki, grinning. "Also, dark-and-mysterious over there was saying how he didn't want people he didn't like at his party, so I should probably honor that for his birthday. _Happy birthday!_" He bows, sweeping his arm through the air.

Loki smirks at him and he moves on to Thor, Sif, Fandral and finally to Odin. I walk over and stand awkwardly as Odin speaks quietly to Peter. When he finally turns around, I hold my arms out, not saying anything. He walks into them and gives me a giant bear hug.

"I'm gonna miss you," I whisper into his shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss you too," he says, "but I'll be back. I still gotta give you the ride I promised." He pulls away to look at me. "Oh god, don't cry. You're going to make this hard." He hugs me again then wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me over to Loki. "Look out for her, man," he says, pointing from Loki to me and back again.

Loki gives me a soft smile. "Don't worry, I most certainly will."

"And you," Peter says, giving me a shake, "don't let him mess shit up again."

"I'll try." I grin at Loki's glare.

"Good." He pulls me closer to him and whispers, "Also, you two have my blessing now."

I laugh and Loki frowns.

"Well," Peter says, pushing me toward Loki with a grin, "I guess I should be going."

"Oh! Peter, here." Frigga hands him a blue bag adorned with swirling silver decorations. "Food, water, maps and such other things for your journey."

He takes it. "Thank you." Then he looks back at me. "It was nice to meet all of you, especially a fellow Terran, er, Mid-G-something-ian—_Earth person_."

I smile, wiping away the tears I just now notice trickling down my cheeks.

"One more hug, huh?"

I nod and walk into his open arms.

"I'm really glad you crash-landed," I say.

"Me too, honestly. But I'll be back, like I just said, so be watching the skies for any sign of an obnoxiously carrot-colored spacecraft."

"Okay."

He backs away and holds his hand out me. I take it and give it a firm shake.

"It was very nice to meet you, Freya," he says seriously before cracking a grin and turning to jog over to his ship.

The door opens and he tosses the bag in and then hoists himself in after it. A moment later, I see him sitting at the controls. For a moment he looks sad; then really confused.

His face appears at the door again. "So, uh, how exactly do I get out of here?"

"Yes, one moment," Thor calls. He walks over to a small, elaborately carved door that sits in the wall four or five feet above the ground. Opening it, he fiddles with something, every so often looking at the ceiling that I now just realize has a crack down the center of the curved surface. There's a loud click and the sound of air rushing out of something somewhere in the wall or floor and then, with a low whiz, the ceiling begins to slide open. It folds down until it meets the wall and there is another click to signal the end of its movement.

"Damn, _that's _cool!" Peter cries, staring up at the stars and planets above us. "Well, I guess now I can say a final goodbye." He waves at everyone and salutes me. "Bye!"

"Bye!" I call.

The door closes as Peter reappears in the window, the lights from the controls making his face glow; this time he's smiling. Suddenly there is a crack and what sounds like a small explosion, then the ship rises. I see the jets grow brighter and there is a zipping noise as it goes slowly higher.

Peter waves once before the ship rises through the open ceiling and accelerates skyward. I run to the opening and watch as he does a loop-dee-loop above me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear I can make out his whooping as he blasts through whatever atmosphere Asgard has and flies off into space. I watch him until his ship is the size of a quarter, a nickel, a dime.

A minute passes and then the obnoxiously orange spaceship is gone.

Frigga shifts on her chair near the fire, looking like she's about to say something. Loki, Lifa and I have all been in her sitting room reading for the majority of the day.

"Freya," she says. "Have you thought at all about what you are going to wear?"

"Wear?" I ask.

"To the ball."

"Oh, the ball," I say, smacking my forehead. "Obviously."

"What is the celebration for?" Lifa asks.

"Loki's Day of Birth is approaching and we are throwing a ball," Frigga says. "You are welcome to attend."

"Really?" Lifa cries. "Oh, I could not possibly!"

"Tell your family they are all welcome as well."

Lifa immediately drops to one knee and crosses her fist over her chest. "Thank you, Allmother," she says, dipping her head.

"Lifa, rise. You are welcome." Frigga smiles as Lifa stands and returns to her seat on the sofa next to me.

"She _knows_ my _name!_" she hisses at me.

I laugh. "I'm pretty sure she makes it her business to know everyone's name; she's known all the random guards who come to tell us stuff on a first name basis."

Frigga hears our whispered conversation because she laughs and says, "I try very hard to know everyone's names. I feel it creates bonds between all of us; those fighting, those working—" she nods at Lifa "—even those who do not live in the castle."

"It may create a bond, but it is also very tedious," Loki mutters.

"Yes, I must admit it _is_ very tedious," she says happily.

I'm about to say something about getting-to-know-you games when I realize that I'm the only one who'll know what I'm talking about now that Peter isn't here.

"Freya," Loki says quietly, "what is it?"

I shake my head and smile at him. "I'm missing Peter."

He nods and turns back to his book but every so often he glances at me to see if I'm alright.

"Freya, what _are_ you going to wear?" Lifa asks me. She has closed her book and now looks at me, her eyes wide and expectant.

I shrug. "I honestly haven't really thought about it."

"Maybe I can help you pick something." She bounces a little. "And perhaps you can help me. I have never been to a ball before; it will be such fun! I can only imagine!"

"I'll try," I say, "but I've never been to one either. We don't have too many balls down on Earth."

"This is most exciting!" she sighs, falling back into the sofa.

Frigga laughs. "I am happy you are excited."

Suddenly Lifa jumps up. "I must go speak to my mother. She would want to hear about this as soon as possible to begin food and outfit preparations."

"Thank you, Lifa."

"Thank _you_, Allmother. Your invitation is beyond generous." She says goodbye to me, clutches her book to her chest and all but skips out.

"Lifa, I approve of; but are you going to invite _all_ the help, Mother?" Loki asks.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"She is a very kind girl and though she still does not like _me_, I have grown to enjoy her chatter. If only in short increments."

"I'll take that," I say.

He smirks at me then returns to his book.

We all sit, silently reading for another hour or so before the Allmother places her closed book on the sofa table and stands.

"I believe it is dinner time," she says.

Loki and I finish the pages we're on before looking up.

"Perfect," I say, just now realizing how hungry I am. "I'm starving."

"As am I." Loki stands and offers me a hand. I take it and he pulls me up, quickly brushing his lips against my knuckles before letting it drop to my side. I feel myself blush. One corner of his mouth quirks up and then he turns, laces his fingers behind his back and walks out the door.

Frigga and I follow. I'm about to catch up to Loki when I feel her hand on my shoulder. Turning, I see she has slowed her pace and I fall into step next to her.

"Freya," she begins. She watches Loki for a moment before resting her gaze fully on me. "I see he has grown fond of you."

I have to force myself to keep walking.

"No, no. Freya, do not look so alarmed." She stops so I stop too. "I have suspected _something_ for a while but—"

It feels like my face has jumped over 'blush' and gone straight to 'on fire.' "It-it's not really serious, um. I'm—he's—" What are you supposed to say when the _god_ who you _like_'s mom is talking to you about your relationship?

_I mean, it _is_ Frigga and not _Odin_ so I don't think I have anything to worry about._

"Freya, everything is alright. I am very _happy!_" she says, her words crushing my doubts. "I am glad—extremely glad—it is you. If it is serious, or if it is not, I am happy. Despite these recent days, he is the happiest I have seen in a very long time. But do you by any chance know what is wrong? I have not had a moment to speak with him."

"Uh, well, he's, um…" I'm still thrown off by her approval (and now worried about what Odin will do when he finds out, if he doesn't already know). "He's been having a lot of nightmares, like me. I think they're getting to him. But I haven't asked him; I didn't want to bring anything up."

She smiles. "I feel that you, of all the people in this castle, will be the one he wishes to speak to the most."

"I'll try."

"Thank you."

"But I'm sure he will talk to you; you _are _his mom after all."

She smiles then pulls me into a hug. "Thank you," she repeats. When she pulls away, she looks _really _excited and begins walking again. "Now, returning to the subject of the ball. If you do not mind, I would very much like to help you—along with Lifa, of course—find a gown. I must admit that not having any daughters has denied me the opportunity to pick out dresses."

"That would be wonderful!" I cry. "Thank you so much!"

"I know you have many gowns in your room, but I have a surprise I was hoping would be of use. Tell Lifa that she and her mother can accompany us in two day's time, as tomorrow I have business to attend to."

I nod, feeling my excitement grow and my stomach do a few flips. "I'll tell her after dinner."

When he sees us walking toward him, Loki perks up but still looks impatient.

"A bit slow tonight, are we?" he asks.

"We were discussing ball gowns, Loki," I say. "Girl talk." I grin at Frigga.

Loki offers me his elbow.

"And speaking of girl talk, I can walk in heels now, thank you very much."

"I am well aware, but I am trying to be a _gentleman_."

"Oh, well in that case you've leveled up again."

"My dear, I still do not know what that means." He opens the door and lets Frigga walk ahead of us.

"Maybe some day you'll find out."

"I would like that very much. If only to rid myself of the mystery." Before we have even taken two steps, Loki kisses the back of my hand. I smile up at him and he smiles down at me, everything about him soft, and out of the corner of my eye I see Frigga glance at us then disappear into the room.


End file.
